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ALMA BOUNDED UP THE PATH 

(See page 122) 



‘CHE HADLEY HALL SERIES 



ALMA’S 

SOPHOMORE YEAR 

A SEQUEL TO “ ALMA AT HADLEY HALL” 


BY 


7- LOUISE M. BREITEXBACIl). v- 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
JOHN GOSS 





BOSTON m L. C. PAGE & 
COMPANY g* MDCCCCXIII 





Copyright , 1913 
By L. C. Page & Company 
(incorporated) 

All rights reserved 


First Impression, March, 1913 











THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C. H. SIMONDS & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. 



W/.'T* 

©CI.A343638 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


I. 

Chums and Pennants . 


. i 

II. 

Lend - a - hand Friendship 


21 

III. 

Virginia Chooses . 


• 47 

IV. 

Margarite’s Best Hat 


. 70 

V. 

A Torn Kimono . 


• 83 

VI. 

Alma Decides 


. 103 

VII. 

The Actress’ Party . 


. 122 

VIII. 

The Liedersinger 


146 

IX. 

The Indoor Circus 


. 170 

X. 

Sally’s Milk Shampoo 


• 193 

XI. 

Sally “ Gets Even ” . 


. 213 

XII. 

Harriet Plays Lady Bountiful 

• 237 

XIII. 

The Top Dresser - drawer 


. 261 

XIV. 

The Chaperone’s Daughter 

. 

. 2 88 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


?aos 

“ Alma bounded up the path ” ( See page 122) 

Frontispiece '' 


“ ‘ Kindly roll the peanut down the hockey- 

field/ DIRECTED THE SENIOR” . . . IIO ^ 

“ 1 1 lost my Alpha Iota pin ’ w . . . . 124 ^ 

“ That very afternoon huge yellow - and - 

BLACK POSTERS WERE TACKED UP ” . . l8o V 

“ Making the crisp air ring with their merry 

LAUGHTER ” 207 v 

“ ‘ To - night’s THE NIGHT FOR GETTING EVEN ’ ” . 230 


• • 


Alma’s Sophomore Year 


CHAPTER I 

CHUMS AND PENNANTS 

“ Let’s arbitrate to settle our deadly quarrel,” 
cried Alma with a little ripple of laughter, from the 
top of the step-ladder, as she flourished a hammer 
in the direction of two college pennants. “ Suppose, 
instead of putting either one above the other, we 
agree to hang my yellow-and-blue banner peacefully 
beside your gray-and-pink one.” 

“ Settled,” called Dorothy from her seat on the 
trunk, where she had perched to oversee operations. 
“ But you know perfectly well, you old dear, Pd 
agree to anything you say now that my college 
colors are going to hang in the same room with 
yours.” 

As she spoke she slipped to the floor, and sat 
tucked up on her heels to sort a pile of books, pho- 

X 


2 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


tographs, and cushions, which she had tumbled out 
of her trunk. “ I’ve been half-wild with excitement 
pretty nearly all summer just thinking about the 
glorious times we’re going to have rooming to- 
gether this year. Besides,” she looked up with a 
roguish little smile, “ I’m firmly convinced before 
you’ve been at Hadley many more years you’ll mend 
the errors of your ways, my child, and send in your 
application to Vassar. Then we won’t have to dis- 
figure our room with any old yellow-and-blue ban- 
ner.” She tilted her small nose scornfully. 

“ Oh, no, I won’t,” protested Alma quickly, push- 
ing back a wisp of hair from her hot forehead. 
“ Mother graduated from Michigan,” she went on 
after a moment’s hesitation, in a low voice, “ and 
she always said I was to go to a coeducational col- 
lege for a year at least. And father and I want to 
carry out every one of her wishes.” 

“ Of course,” Dorothy raised brown eyes brim- 
ming over with sympathy. “ You — ” A quick 
rap-rap-rap interrupted her, and the door opened to 
admit a laughing face topped with a wealth of curly 
red hair. 

“ Robin Redbreast ! ” exclaimed both girls in a 
breath, and Dorothy sprang into the outstretched 
arms, while Alma, with a fine disregard for life or 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


3 


limb, almost threw herself down from the step- 
ladder. 

“ I didn’t know you had come,” cried Dorothy 
rapturously when , she had released herself to give 
place to her room-mate. “ I thought you’d surely 
make use of your Senior privilege and arrive on 
the very last train.” 

“ Faith, child, an’ that I couldn’t,” Mattie de- 
clared, deliberately lapsing into a slow, delicious 
brogue, “ an’ didn’t ye know the school wouldn’t 
be complate a minit now widout me?” At the 
mystified eyes of the two younger girls, a dimple 
showed in one round cheek, and another at the 
corner of her mouth. “ It’s a case of ‘ set a thief 
to catch a thief,’ kiddies, I’m a-thinking. Behold, 
the august President of the Self-Government 
League.” 

For a full moment Alma and Dorothy stared, 
then made the room ring with peals of mirth, 
Mattie after an ineffectual attempt to look both 
dignified and insulted, joined in. “ You seem 
‘ pleased as Punch ’ at the honor conferred on little 
Mattie,” she said, still laughing, “ and strange, isn’t 
it, so do the other girls. Well, I must be off. I’ve 
no end of things weighing on my mind now,” she 
heaved an exaggeratedly deep sigh. “ There’s a 


4 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


whole raft of new girls coming in on the afternoon 
train, and two new teachers, and I’ve promised Miss 
Wright to go with her so she won’t be overcome 
with shyness, and to-night — oh, I assure you,” 
she interrupted herself, “ ‘ life isn’t all beer and 
skittles ’ when you are a real prominent personage, 
but you girls are such chatterers you almost made 
me forget what I came for. First, I wish to warn 
you of the imminent danger you are in of being 
constantly in sight and hearing of the President of 
the Self-Government League. I occupy the ‘ sin- 
gle ’ at the end of the hall. Now — ” 

“ Absolutely rippin’,” put in Alma with an excel- 
lent imitation of a London society man’s voice. 

“ I came in also to borrow a few extra picture- 
hooks,” Mattie went on, calmly ignoring the inter- 
ruption. 

“ Gawd bless ye, lidy, ’aven’t got none, lidy,” 
declared the irrepressible Alma in the accents of an 
English street gamin. “ ’Aven’t got none, ’aven’t 
’ad none.” 

Left to themselves, Alma quickly mounted to her 
perch again, and Dorothy fell upon the conglomer- 
ate mass of articles in the center of the room. 

“ School won’t seem the same this year without 
Cordelia,” sighed the girl on the ladder, a tender, 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


5 


reminiscent look in her eyes, as she began to re- 
arrange two pictures she had hung a few minutes 
before. 

“ No,” agreed Dorothy in her vivacious way, 
“•and I expect it’ll seem mighty strange at first to 
have all those new girls here. Poor things, I pity 
them. I know just how dreadful they’ll feel for a 
while. But we’ll try to help them get over their 
homesickness right away, won’t we? I feel like 
helping everybody in the world, I’m so happy we’re 
together.” She flashed a look of affection at 
Alma, who responded with a smile of irresistible 
sweetness. 

“ You can’t imagine what a difference a room- 
mate can make in your life,” philosophized the girl 
on the floor. She had suspended operations and 
was hugging her knees. A ray of afternoon sun- 
light fell full on her yellow-brown hair turning it 
to a bright gold. “ You know I didn’t have what 
you might call an agreeable room-mate last year.” 

Alma nodded sympathetically. Every Hadley 
Hall girl knew that Dorothy had borne herself like 
an angel to live in peace with spoiled, irresponsible, 
selfish Mary Gray. 

“ But I never dreamed I could draw anything so 
bad in the way of a room-mate as I had at Miss 


6 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Hill’s camp. It wouldn’t have happened if I could 
have gone up when they opened camp. But I was 
ill, you know, and it was late in July before I got 
started, and there was another girl who came at 
the same time, so, of course, we last-comers had to 
take what was left, and bunk in together. Well, 
my dear,” Dorothy’s manner was highly tragic, “ of 
all selfish, untidy, snobbish girls, she was the last 
word.” 

“ What did she look like ? ” asked Alma in a tone 
which suggested that she was at that moment more 
interested in driving a nail straight than in Doro- 
thy’s unpleasant camp-mate of the bygone summer. 

“ She wasn’t so awfully homely, but her disa- 
greeableness stuck out all over,” flashed the brown- 
eyed girl with an unusual show of temper. “ And 
she had no end of beautiful clothes, too; of course, 
it was fool-finery for the pine-woods,” she added 
contemptuously, “but she didn’t like anything or 
anybody, and she had the idea that because she in- 
herited a great deal of money — she told me once 
in a fit of confidence she’s the richest girl in her 
town — she comes from some little dump in Iowa, 
Fogg’s Ferry, I believe — ” 

“ Fogg’s Ferry,” interrupted Alma, wrinkling her 
forehead as she searched her memory. “ It sounds 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


7 


— kind of — familiar. Where did I hear that 
funny name before? ” 

“ In your wildest nightmare,” laughed Dorothy. 
She was down on her knees now, arranging her 
books in neat piles. “ Well, my dear friend, Har- 
riet, told me she was left an orphan when she was 
a mere dot, and since then she’s lived with an old 
housekeeper who always let her do exactly as she 
pleased about everything, and you’d have believed 
it and more, too, if you had had the bad fortune to 
meet Harriet, honey-child.” 

Alma smiled down at her room-mate happily. 
The pet name made her think of Cordelia Everitt’s 
favorite term of endearment for her. 

“ Anyhow,” Dorothy went on, “ somewhere over 
in Europe she had a guardian, a distant cousin of 
her father, who was coming to put an end to all 
her good times, and imprison her, as she put it, in 
some girls’ school or other. Ugh, how I used to 
shiver for fear Hadley would be honored by the 
presence of Harriet Ward! ” 

“ Harriet Ward, oh, I remember now,” declared 
Alma in a relieved manner. “ Why, Dee, isn’t it 
funny, father and I met the guardian she told you 
about on shipboard last summer, and that’s where 
I heard about Fogg’s Ferry. His name is Mr. 


8 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Angus Ward, and he’s just the nicest man. We 
got ever so well acquainted with him, and we used 
to do a three-mile walk around the boat every morn- 
ing before breakfast, and he told us all about this 
young girl — she’s just about our age — and he 
asked father ever so many questions about Hadley, 
and father told him how fine — oh, oh, oh, Dee, I 
do hope he won’t send her here, especially if — ” 

A knock sounded unheeded at the door. The 
next moment it opened, and revealed Mattie Rob- 
bins in a fresh white frock and hat. Directly be- 
hind her stood two girls in pretty blue linen sailor- 
suits. They had short brown braids, one bobbing 
over each shoulder, and the merriest, most mis- 
chievous brown eyes in the world. 

Alma and Dorothy gazed at the strangers in 
mystification. They were more alike than any pro- 
verbial two peas in a pod. 

“ That girl on the step-ladder with the pained 
expression of one about to do a somersault,” an- 
nounced Mattie in the sonorous, didactic tones of 
a Cook’s guide, “ is the only specimen of nobility 
Hadley can boast of at present, Miss Alma Peabody. 
The young lady sitting tailorwise before that heap 
of loot is Miss Dorothy Hall, the best tempered 
girl in Hadley.” 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


9 


Whereupon taking the hands of the newcomers 
she drew them into the room, and with a low bow 
presented, “ Miss Bubble Moore, Miss Trouble 
Moore. Find the lady.” 

There was just an instant of silence, then the 
room resounded with girlish laughter. As they all 
shook hands one of the twins declared with twin- 
kling eyes and a flash of dimples, “ Only our very 
best friends are mean enough to call us by those 
names, and Mattie's a wretch to betray us in that 
fashion. We’ve been hoping to live down our past 
reputation. I’m Effie.” 

“ And I’m Evelyn.” 

The trio were already at the door when the sis- 
ters turned back to say in a chorus, “ Now that 
we’re so well acquainted, better call me Bubble and 
me Trouble.” 

Some fifteen minutes later the door-knob was 
turned softly, and a girlish figure, hatted, veiled, 
a suit-case in either hand, walked in. Both girls 
sprang to their feet, eyes round with surprise. 

“ I beg your pardon,” came in a voice low and 
sweet and with all the softness of a Southern ac- 
cent, “ I insisted to Miss Wright I could find the 
wiay to my room, but I must have made a wrong 
turn. I’m Miss Randolph.” 


10 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ The new Latin teacher,” flashed across the 
minds of her hearers, but it was Dorothy who spoke 
first, “ If you’ll wait here, Miss Randolph, I’ll run 
down to the office, and find out the number of your 
room.” 

With a murmured word of gratitude the young 
woman accepted her offer, and sank into the easy- 
chair which Alma pulled forward. 

“ I came on an earlier train,” the teacher began 
to explain, when suddenly her eye fell on one of the 
suit-cases at her feet. She leaned forward to ex- 
amine it more closely. “ Why, how perfectly stupid 
of me,” she exclaimed in dismayed tones, “ I must 
have exchanged traveling-bags in some way. This 
one probably belongs to that young girl who sat in 
the seat with me, and I haven’t the faintest idea 
who she is or where she was going.” 

Alma flashed her a look of sympathy. There was 
something so pretty and appealing about Miss Ran- 
dolph, and she seemed almost too young to be a 
teacher. Why, to all appearance she was hardly 
more than a girl herself. 

“ Perhaps she’s coming here,” Alma began, cast- 
ing about for something consoling to say. “ Ever 
so many new pupils are expected this afternoon.” 

A relieved look came into the soft, dark eyes, and 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


11 


she smiled gratefully. “ You’re very comforting. 
I don’t know how I came to be so careless. One 
would imagine I was a perfectly green Freshman 
who had never traveled alone before.” As she 
spoke her fingers toyed with a small gold locket 
which swung on a fine chain from her throat. 

At that moment Dorothy darted in. “ You’re at 
the end of this hall, Miss Randolph. You have one 
of the prettiest rooms in school,” she added with a 
friendly little smile, as she and Alma each seized 
a suit-case, and prepared to escort the new teacher 
down the corridor. 

“ The hour waxeth late,” observed Dorothy 
when they were once more in their own sitting- 
room, “and I see where two little Sophs sit up all 
night to straighten out this mess, if there’s another 
interruption. But I warn you from the start, I 
feel — ” she laid her 'hand over her heart, “ yes, I 
can detect the very first symptoms of a ‘ case ’ on 
Miss Randolph, and by the same token, I prophesy 
Latin two is going to be a real popular course this 
year.” 

For the next hour they were left in peace, and 
the two girls worked with energy and enthusiasm. 
At the end of that time, tired, disheveled, but happy, 
they stood back to gaze with admiring eyes at the 


12 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


results of their labors. The little study breathed 
forth freshness, daintiness, simplicity. 

“ One thing’s sure, it doesn’t look like a perfect 
junk-shop the way so many of the girls’ rooms do,” 
asserted Dorothy in a tone of supreme satisfac- 
tion. 

Alma did not answer. Her eyes were resting 
dreamily on a lovely ivory-colored cast of the Venus 
of Melos, and she was living over again in memory 
the 'heavenly day when she and her father had 
shopped together in Paris, and bought it for her 
study. 

“ Let’s get into some other togs,” the brown-eyed 
girl suggested in a weary tone when they could find 
no more words of praise for their pretty sitting- 
room, “ and sit on the garden-veranda till dinner- 
time. I’m too tired even to move.” 

But the very next minute she had fallen upon her 
room-mate with a rapturous hug, and swept her into 
a mad two-step up and down the room. 

“ I’m so happy to .be with you again,” Dorothy 
panted, as they fell upon the window-seat. “ Just 
think what a perfectly glorious Sophomore year 
we’re going to have.” 

Alma did not answer. Her gladness lay almost 
too deep for expression, but the look she turned on 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


13 


her room-mate, the arm she laid about her shoulder, 
bespoke a firmly-rooted affection. 

“ It’s time we were dressing, Dee.” She began 
to draw the other girl to her feet, when there came 
an imperative tap at the door, and almost simultane- 
ously the graceful figure of the principal appeared 
in the doorway. 

With an arm about each girl’s shoulder, she led 
them back to the window-seat. “ My dears,” she 
said at once with the directness so natural to her, 
“ I 'have a favor to ask of you, one that I realize 
will involve considerable self-sacrifice on both your 
parts.” 

Dorothy was quick to respond, “ We’ll be glad 
to do it, I know.” 

Alma waited silently, her eyes smiling trustfully 
into Miss Wright’s. 

The older woman hesitated a perceptible second. 
It was evident she was troubled. 

“ I want you to believe,” she glanced from one 
to the other, “ that I am not asking you to do this 
,on the spur of the moment. I have considered it 
carefully from every view-point for the past forty- 
eight hours. I think it best to state the case, and 
leave the final decision to you. A young girl in 
peculiarly unfortunate circumstances has been 


14 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


placed in my care, and her guardian asked ex- 
pressly that I allow her to room with you, Alma.” 

A low sound of distress came from Dorothy, but 
the other girl sat still as a statue, too filled with 
unhappiness to speak. In a flash she understood 
just what was being asked of them. 

With a sympathetic pressure of Dorothy’s hand, 
the principal continued, “ If you girls will be gen- 
erous enough to let me keep a tentative promise to 
this new girl’s guardian, I shall do my best to see 
that it will not be a permanent arrangement. You, 
Dorothy, may occupy the suite directly across the 
hall without a room-mate, and for a month I should 
like Alma to take under her wing this poor, un- 
happy Harriet Ward.” 

“ Harriet Ward!” fairly burst from Dorothy’s 
lips. “ Why, that isn’t fair, Miss Wright.” She 
sprang excitedly to her feet, and her face lost its 
color. “ She’s the most disagreeable girl I ever 
met. I know her — she was my tent-mate for four 
dreadful weeks last summer.” 

“ I’m afraid what you’ve said about Harriet is 
only too true,” admitted Miss Wright, “ from the 
reports of her guardian and Miss Hill. But I have 
become deeply interested in this girl’s problem, and 
it rests with you two, perhaps more than you can 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


15 


realize, to help me make a success of my difficult 
undertaking. Harriet needs to learn and unlearn 
many, many things, and I hope I may count on 
your cooperation. Now, I’m going to leave you 
alone for an hour or so to consider the matter fully. 
At the end of that time I shall bring Harriet up 
here. If you feel the sacrifice is too great, perhaps 
Mr. Ward will be satisfied to have her occupy the 
suite across the 'hall, and you can still lend her a 
helping hand.” 

But it was less than thirty minutes later when 
two girls, eyes tear-bright, cheeks tear-stained, 
walked solemnly across the corridor, arms piled 
high with books, banners, cushions and other ac- 
cessories of a girl’s sitting-room. Neither spoke a 
word until the transfer was complete, and the sor- 
rowful task performed. Then Dorothy cried out, 
as she thumped several unoffending pillows into 
place, “ Don’t ever expect me to come into your 
rooms while that Harriet Ward is there. I know I 
shall hate the very sight of her.” 

“ Is that so ? ” queried an angry voice, so close 
to them that both girls wheeled about sharply with 
startled eyes. 

Alma found herself regarding a girl of about her 
own height and age, attired in an extremely modish 


16 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


suit and hat. The stranger’s small blue eyes were 
blazing, and a dull red burned in her sallow cheeks. 
“ They say listeners aren’t apt to hear good things 
about themselves, so I s’pose you’ll think it serves 
me right for stopping to peek in at your doorway,” 
the girl went on with a defiant air. “ Anyhow, let 
me tell you the feeling isn’t all on the one side, 
Dorothy Hall, and when I knew you were in this 
school, I’d have moved heaven and earth not to 
come here.” 

Dorothy stood speechless, every drop of color 
drawn from her lips and cheeks. The next moment 
she regained her self-possession, and although her 
voice sounded unnatural and hard in her own ears, 
made the introduction as pleasantly as she could. 

“ Um,” Harriet indulged in a prolonged stare, 
“ so you’re the wonderful girl I’ve been hearing 
about the last few weeks.” 

A quick, painful scarlet swept into Alma’s face 
as she stammered, “I — I met your guardian on 
shipboard.” 

“ Yes,” retorted Harriet with a bitterness she did 
not try to conceal, “ and I guess that’s the real 
reason for my troubles.” 

Before Alma could think of anything to say in 
self-defense, Harriet went on, “ I s’pose I’d better 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


17 


go down to the office again. Miss Wright said 
she’d show me a couple of the suites, but it gave 
me the willies to wait for her, so I started off on 
my own hook. Where is suite fourteen — oh,” she 
interrupted herself as something in the expression 
of the two girls made her suddenly grasp the situ- 
ation, “ so that’s why you both look so peeved. 
Had to be separated all on account of me. Well, 
you’re not a bit sorrier about it than I. Is that the 
room we’re to share? ” She pointed to the partly 
denuded study across the hall, but her eyes were 
searching Alma’s face. Alma nodded, not trusting 
herself to speak. 

“Feel as bad about it as all that?” asked the 
cool voice. “ Well, you’ve only yourself to blame. 
The room is rather pretty,” she commented, her 
gaze roaming about the little white study. 
“ Hardly enough afternoon sunshine, though, and 
of course that’s a perfectly stupid way to arrange 
the desks and book-cases. Any one with half an 
artistic eye can see that. Let’s have the maids 
up, and move things about,” she suggested with a 
growing enthusiasm. “ I want my desk put right 
there between the two windows where the light’ll 
be best. Oh,” she gave a little shrill scream, as the 
slender figure of the new Latin teacher emerged 


18 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


from a door at the far end of the hall. “ There’s 
the woman who took my suit-case.” While she 
was speaking, she was flying down the corridor. 

“ What under the sun — ?” demanded Dorothy, 
but Alma for some unaccountable reason ran after 
her. She was just within earshot when Harriet 
planted herself deliberately in Miss Randolph’s 
path, and asked crossly, “ Where’s my suit-case ? 
What made you take mine? ” 

Miss Randolph turned large, dark eyes full of 
surprise on the speaker. “ I took it quite by acci- 
dent, of course,” she explained gently. “ In the 
hurry of leaving the train I was careless enough 
not to select my own traveling-bags. I am ever so 
glad we can make the exchange — ” 

“ Where’s mine ? ” interrupted Harriet anxiously. 
“ I’ve been so worried. That case has something 
— things I mean,” she stammered, “ I wouldn’t 
lose for the world.” 

“ I’m sorry my heedlessness made you worry,” 
smiled Miss Randolph, and her smile was like a bit 
of sunshine Alma thought. With a very engaging 
manner she invited both girls into her room. But 
Harriet, almost before her foot was over the 
threshold, had spied her suit-case. Eagerly she 
pounced upon it. “ You — you haven’t opened 


CHUMS AND PENNANTS 


19 


it ? ^ she asked, then had the grace to look ashamed. 
“ I — I didn’t mean just that,” she apologized 
awkwardly. “ I was only hoping that my — that 
it — that nothing got lost. I’ll have your case sent 
up to you right away.” With a chill little nod she 
walked out of the room. 

When Alma entered he-r study some minutes 
later, Harriet was standing by the open window, 
looking out into the fast gathering twilight. 
“Where’s the key to that top dresser drawer?” 
she demanded, without turning around. 

A little flush ran into Alma’s face, but she an- 
swered pleasantly, “ You’ll have to ask the house- 
keeper for a key. Dorothy and I decided we didn’t 
need any keys. We hadn’t anything we wanted to 
lock up.” 

“ Well, T have,” retorted Harriet shortly. And 
when Miss Wright came to hunt for the truant 
and make final arrangements for the newcomer’s 
comfort, Harriet’s first request was for the dresser 
drawer key. 

Later when Alma, fresh and dainty in a soft 
white frock, stood waiting to escort her room- 
mate to dinner, she caught sight of Dorothy hover- 
ing wistfully about the open door. Instantly she 
was at her side. 


20 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Cheer up, Dee,” she whispered. “ Good news. 
You’re to sit next to me at table. She,” motioning 
toward the occupant of the bed-room, “ is way 
down at the other end, and best of all, lovely Miss 
Randolph is our table-chaperone.” 

Dorothy’s eyes grew very bright. “ I’ll have you 
all for my own at meal times, anyhow,” she said 
with an eager little smile, then her face clouded 
over again. “ But why, why did she have to come 
here and spoil all our good times, and why did just 
you have to room with her?” 

“ She won’t spoil our good times,” declared 
Alma hopefully. a We won’t let her. You know 
it’s only for a month, and that’ll soon be gone. 
Perhaps she’s rooming with me,” she added a bit 
tremulously, “ so I can help her a little. I guess 
this is my chance to pay back some of what I owe 
to Cordelia and you and the other girls of Hadley 
Hall.” 


CHAPTER II 


LEND - A - HAND FRIENDSHIP 

Alma was just drifting off into pleasant dreams 
when something startled her wide awake. For a 
moment she lay still. She could see nothrng but a 
square of velvety blackness which she knew at once 
was a window. She strained her ears to listen. 
The disturbing noise came again. Now she could 
interpret the sound. Her room-mate was sobbing. 

The next instant she raised herself on her elbow, 
and called softly, “ What’s the matter, Harriet? 
Are you ill ? ” 

Her question evoked louder, more violent sobs. 
Alma hesitated. Just what to do she didn’t know. 
She had an almost boyish hatred of tears and emo- 
tional outbreaks. “Are you ill, Harriet?” she 
asked again, but the occupant of the small white 
bed at the other end of the room refused to answer. 
Fearing that her room-mate would arouse the 
whole household by the intensity of her woe, Alma 
slipped from bed, and made her way cautiously 
over the floor. Her mind was vivid with thoughts 
21 


22 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


of Cordelia’s kindness to her on her own dreadful 
first night at Hadley Hall. 

Dropping on her knees, she patted the arm of 
the weeping girl in silence for a minute. Then she 
whispered, “ I know exactly how lonely and miser- 
able you’re feeling. I felt as if I were perfectly 
alone in the world the first night I spent here, but 
the girls were so nice, one especially, that I soon 
began to get over my — ” 

“ Tm not lonesome,” Harriet fairly sniveled, 
dabbing at her eyes with a moist wad of a hand- 
kerchief. “ I’ve been away from home hundreds 
of times, and I never get homesick, but I’ve — 
never — p-put — in — s-such an awful n-night be- 
fore.” The tears flowed again, and her body shook 
spasmodically. “ This b-bed’s s-so — har-rd — I 
can’t — s-sleep.” 

“ You goose ! Why, you’re -a perfect baiby,” 
exploded Alma, scrambling to her feet. She was 
too overcome with impatience and disgust to say 
anything further. For a long moment she stood at 
the window, and drew in deep breaths of the Sep- 
tember wind heavy with fruity odors. Gradually 
the calming influence of the night-scene stole over 
her, and she regretted her cross words. When she 
turned away from the wonder of the deep blue sky, 


LEND-A-HAND FRIENDSHIP 


23 


with its thin silvery disc and myriads of twinkling 
stars, she was able to say quite pleasantly, “ You’ll 
soon get used to the bed, Harriet. Would you like 
another pillow ? ” 

There was no answer. As she crawled back into 
her own bed, she smiled to herself. Harriet was 
already fast asleep if an occasional gentle snore 
was any evidence. 

The sun had already crept in at the windows, 
and was painting rug and floor a pale yellow when 
Alma sprang out of bed. 

“ Rising bell,” she called gaily as six chimes 
broke the early morning stillness. 

Harriet stirred, yawned lazily, stretched, and 
turned over. “ Such a heathenish hour,” she 
grumbled, “ I sha’n’t get up,” with the air of a 
spoiled child. 

“ It doesn’t matter so much this first morning,” 
Alma felt very virtuous for curbing her desire to 
give a sharp retort, “ but later we’re going to try 
Self-Government in the Home Department. You 
see, last year it was all so new, and we really only 
tried it in the school — ” 

“Oh, rubbish and raspberry jam!” interrupted 
the other pettishly, “ I don’t care a flip about your 
Self-Government. I’d far rather you’d tell me how 


24 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


often the school-dragon lets you go shopping and 
to the matinee, and if you have midnight feeds 
often, and who’s the girl that’ll write essays and 
such like for you, and whether there’s a boys’ school 
close by, and any number of important things.” 

A tap at the door saved Alma the necessity of 
replying. She flew to open it, and there stood 
Dorothy fresh as a rose in her white skirt and middy 
blouse. 

“ I’ve promised to take Trouble and Bubble 
Moore for a walk around the grounds before 
breakfast, and I want you to come, too.” Doro- 
thy’s smile held a touch of eagerness. In an under- 
tone, intended only for her friend’s ear, she added, 
“ I made up my mind over night not to be nasty to 
her.” With a nod she indicated Harriet, whom she 
could see through the partly open door huddled on 
the edge of the bed stretching and rubbing the 
sleep out of her eyes. 

Good for you, Dee,” Alma whispered. 

“ That’ll make things much easier for me.” 

“And I’m going to start the good work right 
now,” declared the other. Squaring her shoulders 
she marched up to the bed, and hand extended, said 
with a pretty earnestness, “Let’s begin all over, 
Harriet, now that we’re both Hadley girls.” 


LEND - A - HAND FRIENDSHIP 


25 


Harriet stared. Her blue eyes held a puzzled, 
half suspicious look. “ I don’t believe you mean 
it,” she said rather ungraciously, “ but I’ll shake 
hands just the same.” In almost the next breath 
she added in a wistful tone, “ You girls think an 
awful heap of each other, don’t you? I s’pose it’s 
nice to have somebody like you for yourself and 
not just because you’ve got money.” 

Alma and Dorothy flashed each other a quick 
glance of comprehension, and for the moment 
neither could think of anything tactful to say. 
Then, with a soft little laugh, the brown-eyed girl 
remarked, “ Hadley’s going to change a lot of your 
opinions, Harriet, and I’m sure it won’t be many 
months before you’ll have some real friends. Well, 
honey-child,” turning to Alma, who was proceeding 
rapidly with her simple coiffure, “ I’m sorry you’re 
not ready, but I’ll see you at breakfast-table, that is, 
if you two slow-coaches can’t get dressed before.” 

“ Isn’t her hair perfectly lovely?” Harriet’s 
tone was full of envy as she pattered over to the 
mirror to inspect her own straggly, sand-colored 
hair. “ Hers is so long and soft, and up at camp 
last summer, when she dried it in the sunshine, it 
looked almost like gold.” 

“ I think it’s the prettiest hair in all the world,” 


26 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


agreed Alma enthusiastically, flying to the window 
to follow with her gaze the erect figure of her 
friend, now flanked on either side by a girl in a 
blue linen sailor-suit with bobbing, brown braids. 
“ Oh, do hurry, Harriet. Let’s get out for a little 
run around the grounds before breakfast. It’s such 
a glorious day.” 

Harriet, deep in the intricacies of her toilet, made 
no answer. 

Outside it was a blue-and-gold September morn- 
ing. Already many of the girls had been lured out 
into the sunshine. With longing eyes Alma watched 
them frolic about, and once she sighed aloud as 
their ripples of laughter floated up to her. 

“ Please hurry,” she urged over her shoulder, 
half-beseechingly, half-impatiently. “ I’m just dy- 
ing to get out.” 

“Well, go then!” flared Harriet, her mouth a 
hair-pin receptacle. “ I’m sure I don’t want you to 
wait for me, if you don’t want to,” in an injured 
tone, “ but I can’t for the life of me see where 
you’re so awfully kind-hearted.” 

“ I’m afraid I’m not,” admitted the other with 
such prompt humility that for an instant Harriet 
was disarmed. 

“ Well, my guardian seemed to think so, and he 


LEND- A -HAND FRIENDSHIP 


27 


did nothing but sing your praises morning, noon, 
and night till I got sick and tired of hearing your 
name. But he makes mistakes like everybody else, 
and he’ll find out before long, I’m thinking, he’s 
made a big one in treating me like a child.” She 
had picked up a hand-glass, and was examining her- 
self from every angle with open self-approval. 
“ There, I’m almost ready now. Where’s my 
perfume-bottle ? ” She flew across the room, rum- 
maged hurriedly in the top dresser drawer, brought 
out a large, cut-glass bottle, and tipped a generous 
quantity of perfume on her handkerchief. “ Now, 
where did I put that key ? ” 

After a brief and ineffectual search through the 
other dresser drawers, which left them in a wildly 
chaotic state, she faced about nervously. Alma 
marveled in secret at the number and variety of 
fraternity pins and emblems she wore plastered 
■over the front of her white shirt-waist. 

“ You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you in a 
jiffy. I just must find that key.” 

The next moment Alma had shot out of the 
room, and was dancing down the hall in time to 
a tune she was humming, 

“ ‘ I wish that I had a silver spindle.’ ” Under 
her breath she began to sing the words of the ten- 


28 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


der, wistful little song that had been haunting her 
for days. “ Oh, what a wonderful time father and 
I had that night in New York when he took me to 
hear * Koenigskinder,’ ” passed through her mind, 
and she went dancing along and singing the song 
of the goose girl under the linden-tree. 

Before a half-open door she stopped abruptly, 
and listened. “ More crying,” she said to herself 
with an impatient shrug of her shoulders. She 
hurried past, when a sudden thought stayed her. 
“ Cordelia wouldn’t run away like that,” she re- 
proached herself, “ she always had time and sym- 
pathy for every one who needed her.” It required 
a little more mental prodding before she could make 
herself believe it was her duty to go back. She did 
so hate to see any one cry. Besides, what help 
could she possibly — When she was within a step 
of the half-open door she coughed softly. The 
sobbing went on without a break. Alma wanted 
to run. Instead she coughed again. More sobs. 
She pushed the door wide open, and walked in. 

A girl sat at the table, her head on her arms, 
weeping as if her heart was broken beyond repair. 
Alma hesitated a long second, then, taking herself 
firmly in hand, crossed over to the girl, and touched 
her on the shoulder. With a little gasp the heart- 


LEND-A-HAND FRIENDSHIP 


29 


broken one raised her head, and looked up with tear- 
drenched, swollen eyes. 

“ I’m not crying/’ she said defiantly, and even as 
she spoke great tears coursed unchecked down her 
face, “ I never c-cry.” 

“ Certainly not,” agreed Alma gravely. “ But 
just what were you doing? I couldn’t tell exactly 
when I was going by.” 

Through her tears the other smiled, and though 
her face was fat and plain it irradiated such good- 
nature that Alma liked her on the spot. “ That’s 
my peculiar way of showing joy,” explained the 
plain-featured girl, straightening up with an effort, 
and mopping her face with a good-sized handker- 
chief. “ I was just thinking about having to go to 
college, and I was — laughing so loud, don’t you 
know, I had to use a handkerchief, and I found 
this one of father’s that had got in among mine 
somehow, and that made me — laugh all the 
harder.” 

Alma stared round-eyed, then her sense of humor 
came to the rescue, and the corners of her mouth 
fairly twitched. “ College,” she repeated with a 
whimsical little smile, “ why, aren’t you a Fresh- 
man ? Of course,” she added apologetically, “ you 
don’t look in the least like a Freshie. I should 


30 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


almost have thought you were a — Senior — if I 
hadn’t known you were in the first year class.” 

“ Thanks, awfully,” the other girl made a little 
grimace, “ I understand perfectly.” 

“ But why are you fussing about college already? 
You don’t have to swallow it at one gulp, you 
know.” 

“ That’s true.” There was a visible brightening 
in the pudgy face. “ But when you have a mother 
who’s been a perfect shark herself, and a real dyed- 
in-the-wool college woman, and your sisters are all 
dotty about college and you haven’t the faintest 
•hankering for it, but have to go all the same, it’s 
pretty bad. But the very last straw is having a 
room-mate who fairly dotes on studying,” her ex- 
pression was quite lachrymose again. 

“ Nothing like that matters on such a wonderful, 
sunshiny morning,” cheered Alma. “ Wh-at you 
need is breakfast, and some fresh air in your lungs, 
as Miss Hill, our physical director, would say. 
Where’s your room-mate now, Miss — er?” 

“ M y name’s Ball, Catherine Ball. I’ll stand up 
so you can see I’m hopelessly fat and round and 
thick. Can you guess my nickname? Yes, of 
course, Rubber Ball, it strikes every one on first 
sight, though some prefer Butter Ball. My room- 


LEND-A-HAND FRIENDSHIP 


31 


mate’s down in the library browsing already among 
her beloved books. Her name’s Drusilla Evans. 
Do you know her? No? Well, Drusilla must have 
been the wretch that invented studying.” 

Alma laughed her merry, infectious laugh, in 
which the other girl joined immediately, and their 
eyes met and sealed a bond of friendship. “ There 
goes the breakfast bell,” declared the Sophomore 
the next minute. “ Scuttle, child, so as not to be 
late. I want to wait for my room-mate.” 

For ten long minutes crowded full of impatience 
and restlessness Alma kept her word. Then Har- 
riet, jabot awry, hair untidy and almost tumbling 
down, white shirt-waist sleeves already soiled, came 
rushing down the corridor. “ I had such a time 
finding that key, and it always makes me cross as 
two sticks to be up so long without my breakfast,” 
she grumbled when she was a few feet away. But 
Alma hurried her into the breakfast-room without 
a word. They were the last-comers. There was no 
reproof, but Mattie Robbins from her seat at the 
Senior table elevated her eyebrows in a significant 
fashion which brought an uncomfortable red into 
Alma’s cheeks. 

“ I sha’n’t be late again for a dozen Harriet 
Wards,” she was telling herself as she dropped into 


32 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


her seat, and exchanged a word of greeting with 
Miss Randolph who sat behind the silver urn, busy 
with the coffee cups. 

“ She’s just awfully pretty,” Alma’s gaze rested 
admiringly on the chaperone’s face which had a 
vivid, fragile beauty all its own, “ but she doesn’t 
look a bit happy. Her mouth’s sad, and there’s 
something about her eyes that makes you think she 
has that all-alone-in-the-world feeling that I used 
to have.” 

Then her attention was drawn to the other end 
of the table, where Harriet was relating, with evi- 
dent enjoyment, her share in several recent high 
school escapades. 

“ You must have some gay times in your town,” 
laughed Margarite Dunstan, across the table. 
Margarite had the baby-blue eyes, curly golden hair 
and sweetly rounded cheeks usually associated with 
angels, but her intimates who knew her affection- 
ately as “ Daisy Dunce,” could have told you other- 
wise. She was the merriest imp of mischief that 
ever walked on solid earth, and she possessed a 
positive talent for getting herself and others into 
most ridiculous scrapes. 

“ Yes, thank you, Miss Randolph, three lumps of 
sugar, and plenty of cream. I believe you hail from 


LEND -A -HAND FRIENDSHIP 


33 


the Golden West, Fogg’s Ferry, did you say? ” she 
addressed her vis-a-vis. 

There was a clatter among the coffee cups, and 
the next instant some of the hot fluid was browning 
the snowy table-cloth. “ It’s too bad to serve you 
last when you’ve been waiting so patiently,” Miss 
Randolph said to the girl beside her, as she hastened 
to refill the cup. “ I’m sorry I was so awkward, 
Katie,” she apologized quietly in spite of her 
flushed cheeks as the maid hastened to her rescue. 

“ You must have been startled at the poetical 
swing of the name, Miss Harriet Ward of Fogg’s 
Ferry,” laughed Margarite, and all the other girls 
except Harriet, laughed, too, in a sincere desire to 
cover their chaperone’s embarrassment. 

“ That’s right, blame me for everything,” Har- 
riet burst out so crossly that her companions re- 
garded her in surprise. “ Pass, the cream,” she 
commanded her neighbor on her right, “ My coffee’s 
black as ink. I can’t drink the stuff.” 

“ Better look out. The cream’ll turn sour. It 
often does in a thunder-storm,” warned Josephine 
Douglas, hastening to comply. Her small, near- 
sighted eyes were twinkling, and she could not re- 
sist the temptation to inquire with grave politeness, 
when Harriet had helped herself most liberally, 


34 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Did you think that was an individual jug of 
cream? Or perhaps you have a cow of your own 
here? ” 

Harriet muttered something unintelligible, and 
for the rest of the meal maintained a sulky silence. 

“ Miss Wright asked me to take you in tow this 
morning, Harriet,” Alma observed in as friendly 
a tone as she could command when the chaperone 
had signed for them to rise. “ We’re to go at 
once to the Assembly Hall for the opening address, 
and then you and I can go to classes together. I 
think we’re taking exactly the same studies.” 

“ Of course we are,” Harriet replied with a 
slight sneer. “ Wasn’t I put here to be made ex- 
actly like you ? ” 

With difficulty Alma crowded back the angry 
words that almost tumbled from her lips. “ I’m 
afraid your guardian didn’t choose the right girl 
for you to pattern after. It’s terribly hard for me 
to be even half-way good,” she admitted honestly. 

Then with a wave of relief she led the way to 
Harriet’s seat, and consigned her to the care of 
her seat-mate, Josephine Douglas, who, in spite of 
her unfinished Freshman year, had managed with 
the aid of a tutor to make the second year class. 
For the next half-hour Alma completely forgot 


LEND-A-HAND FRIENDSHIP 


35 


Harriet and her disagreeable speeches in her ab- 
sorbing interest in Miss Wright’s opening address. 
Tingling with enthusiasm as the principal outlined 
plans for the coming year, and dwelt on her ideals 
for the mental and physical growth of Hadley Hall 
girls, she sat hands clasped, leaning forward in her 
seat. Even after the last stirring words had died 
away, and the room began to hum and quiver with 
excitement, she did not move. 

“ If I can only remember that,” she was saying 
to herself with characteristic intensity, “ if I can 
only do as Miss Wright says, and bring a fair-play 
spirit into everything I do, my Sophomore year’ll 
amount to something. And I certainly believe I’m 
going to need something like that to help me get 
along with Harriet.” 

When the girls were dismissed to their classes, 
Dorothy caught up with Alma, and linked arms. 
Her face shining with seriousness, she whispered, 
“ Wasn’t that great about introducing the team- 
play spirit into our studies and our relations with 
the other girls ? ” Then, as she saw Harriet ma- 
king her way toward them, she added with a sigh, 
“ We’ll have plenty of chance to try to put that into 
practice, I’m thinking,” and hurried off. 

“ Our first class is Algebra two,” announced 


36 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Alma pleasantly as Harriet joined her. “ We have 
a new Algebra teacher this year, Miss Pills- 
bury.” 

“ She’s that dumpy one with the fire-red hair and 
sour expression who sat at the table next to ours, 
isn’t she?” inquired Harriet. “She looks like a 
bitter pill,” she added, and laughed immoderately 
at her own wit. 

“ Hush, this is her room right here,” and falling 
in line with the other girls, Alma stepped into the 
Algebra room behind her room-mate. 

Mathematics had never been a favorite subject 
with Alma, and she usually brought to this class a 
bored expression and a grudgingly prepared lesson. 
With a little grimace and a shrug of the shoulders, 
which told more plainly than words that the hour 
would be one long torture for her, she took a seat 
at a safe distance from the teacher’s desk. She be- 
gan to toy with her pencil and book, and her eyes 
roved restlessly about the room when Miss Pills- 
bury rose, and proceeded to outline the work for 
the coming year. Presently, however, her eyes 
ceased to rove, and her fingers remained quiet in 
her lap, and without realizing it, she was listening 
with eager attention to every word that fell from 
the teacher’s lips. She could hardly believe her 


LEND-A-HAND FRIENDSHIP 


37 


ears when the gong sounded. The hour had fairly 
flown. 

“ Wonder of wonders, I believe I’m actually go- 
ing to like Algebra,” she announced in an amazed 
tone to her seat-mate when they were together again 
in the Assembly Hall. 

“ I always did,” responded Dorothy, consulting 
her schedule of work. “ I’m sorry I’m not in your 
Math, section, but we’ll be together in Latin class, 
and that comes next hour. I’m so glad, honey- 
child, you decided to take Latin two from the very 
beginning, in spite of all your last year’s tutoring. 
Aren’t you pleased, too, now that we’re to have 
Miss Randolph ? ” 

Alma smiled and nodded her head decidedly, 
then gathering up her Latin books hurried into the 
hall at the sign of dismissal. Suddenly she remem- 
bered her duty to her room-mate. She was on the 
point of turning back into the Assembly Room when 
she saw her arm-in-arm with Josephine Douglas 
enter the Classical Room. 

“ Let’s sit right down in front,” Dorothy whis- 
pered, u so Miss Randolph’ll feel she has a couple 
of friends close at hand,” and Alma promptly slid 
into the seat suggested. It occurred to her to mo- 
tion Harriet to the empty chair at her left, but that 


38 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


young lady declined the invitation with a curt shake 
of her head, and after due deliberation chose the 
back row. 

When the class had gathered and some twenty 
pairs of alert young eyes were fixed on the teacher 
at the desk, Miss Randolph rose and stood before 
them. It was plain to them all that she was nervous. 
Her face, usually rose-flushed, had grown quite 
white, and her eyes seemed larger and darker than 
ever. Alma’s heart went out to her, she looked so 
young and frightened, and it required considerable 
self-restraint on Dorothy’s part to keep her seat. 
She longed to leap up and do something, any- 
thing, which would put the new teacher at her 
ease. 

For an instant Miss Randolph let her gaze wan- 
der over the upturned faces until her eyes met Har- 
riet’s scornful, defiant ones. Involuntarily her fin- 
gers flew to her throat. With a visible effort she 
gathered herself together, and began hurriedly, 
“ This is, I believe, the second year Latin class, and 
you are to read Gaesar’s Callic Wars, I mean, 
Waesar’s Callic Gars, I — ” but her concluding 
words were lost in the peals of laughter that broke 
involuntarily from the class, and after one long, un- 
comfortable moment in which her sense of humor 


LEND -A- HAND FRIENDSHIP 


39 


struggled with her new dignity, Miss Randolph 
laughed too. 

Harriet fairly shouted, “Ha! Ha! Ha!” She 
threw herself back in her seat, and gave way to a 
loud, unrestrained paroxysm of mirth. “ Funniest 
thing I ever heard in all my life,” she gasped, and 
shrieked again. 

“ Girls,” Miss Randolph’s quiet voice restored 
order, “ I want your full attention now.” Then, 
in a simple, direct manner that went straight to her 
hearers’ hearts, she explained briefly what she hoped 
to accomplish during the year with their coopera- 
tion. 

“ Of course, I realize you are not prepared to 
recite, as this is the first day,” she went on, “ so I’m 
going to ask each one of you to read a sentence or 
two aloud in Latin and translate at sight. You 
will find that a help in preparing your lesson for 
to-morrow. We’ll begin with the back row. You 
first, please, Harriet.” 

The girl addressed got on her feet, leisurely 
opened her book, and after one or two false starts 
stumbled through the reading of the opening sen- 
tence, “ Gallia est omnis divisa in partis tres, etc.” 

Miss Randolph heard her to the end without 
comment. Then she said pleasantly, “ I shall want 


40 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


to give you some help with pronunciation. You 
seem to find it difficult. Now, translate at sight. 
Go through it slowly, one word at a time, then fit 
the. sentence together, and — ” 

But before she could finish her directions Harriet 
had, to the surprise of all her hearers, dashed 
through the sentence, rendering it into smooth, idi- 
omatic English. 

“ Have you ever translated Caesar before ?” in- 
terrogated Miss Randolph hesitatingly. She had 
the air of one shrinking from an expected blow. 

“ No,” Harriet answered with a triumphant air. 

“ Please bring your book here,” the teacher re- 
quested in a low tone. 

Harriet squared her chin, and looked as if she 
were going to refuse, but something in those soft, 
dark eyes commanded obedience. Even before she 
glanced at the book, Miss Randolph knew it was 
defaced with an interlinear translation. 

“ I’m so sorry,” she began, and her voice quiv- 
ered in spite of her effort to steady it, but the girl 
interrupted with a hard little laugh, “That isn’t 
my book. I couldn’t find mine this morning.” 

" Whose is it? ” 

“ Why — er — I found it in my room in the 
book-case.” 


LEND -A- HAND FRIENDSHIP 


41 


“ Who is your room-mate ? ” Miss Randolph’s 
question was barely audible. 

“ Alma Peabody,” was the prompt answer. 

“ Is the book hers? ” 

“ Of course I can’t say for sure,” Harriet began 
glibly, “ but I don’t think it is. It’s probably some 
old school-book.” Being provided with an elastic 
conscience she was able to face the class innocently. 
“ Anyhow, I only borrowed it for to-day,” she ex- 
plained sulkily, and started toward her seat. Some 
one stretched out a foot, Harriet stumbled and the 
book fell from her grasp. 

Miss Randolph stooped and picked it up. A 
loose fly-leaf caught her eye. She read aloud with 
pale lips, “ Hands off. Bought by Harriet Ward 
from Joe Clark, Fogg’s Ferry, Iowa, for twenty- 
five cents. Paid June first in this year of our Lord.” 

An older, more experienced teacher might have 
'handled the problem more wisely, but Miss Ran- 
dolph, with the memory of the Faculty Meeting of 
the preceding evening still fresh in her mind, dealt 
with the offender promptly. “ Go to Miss Wright’s 
office at once, Harriet, and wait there until I come.” 
Her tone was more sad than stern. 

With an angry mutter of words the girl gathered 
up her books, and slammed the door behind her. 


42 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


When Alma went up to her study just before 
lunch-hour, Harriet was sitting at her desk, writing 
at a top-speed. Her eyes were red and swollen, and 
she did not look up or respond to the other girl’s 
greeting. But the next minute she threw down her 
pen, folded the closely written sheets of paper, and 
slipped them into an envelope which she sealed with 
a bang. 

“ There,” she said, “ I guess that’ll make matters 
perfectly clear to guardy. I’m not going to apolo- 
gize to Miss Randolph before the class if Miss 
Wright keeps me in my room a week, and starves 
me on bread and water.” 

“ Miss Wright wouldn’t do that,” defended 
Alma warmly, depositing her armful of books on 
the study-table. “ Besides, we don’t have such 
punishments now that we have Self-Government, 
you know.” 

“ Well, Self-Government or not, I simply sha’n’t 
apologize,” sputtered Harriet, “ and that’s the end 
of that, and I’m not going to stay here either, as 
Cousin Angus’ll find out from this,” tapping the 
envelope significantly. “ I’m not used to being 
treated that way by a teacher, I can tell you,” her 
eyes fairly blazed, “ I’ve always been somebody in 
my town. Why, the teachers in Fogg’s Ferry stand 


LEND -A -HAND FRIENDSHIP 


43 


around pretty lively for Harriet Ward. I guess 
it’s up to them not to forget it was my father who 
built the gym. for the High School, and gave the 
town a corking fine Music-Hall besides.” 

Alma walked into the bed-room, and stood before 
the dressing-table to smooth her hair. She felt 
tired and hungry and utterly out of patience with 
Harriet and her perverse ways. Why try to dis- 
suade her ? Why not let her insist on her guardian 
taking her away from Hadley Hall? Then she 
and Dorothy could room together again without 
waiting for a whole long month to pass and — 
Suddenly her mind began to revolve like a kaleido- 
scope. In memory she was living over again the 
first few black days of her own Freshman year at 
Hadley, shot through with the sunshine of Corde- 
lia Everitt’s kindness. Again she was swinging 
along a slippery, swaying ocean-steamer deck, arm- 
in-arm with her father, gazing into the troubled 
face of Harriet’s guardian and listening with all 
interest to his account of his young, orphaned ward. 

Then her own whispered words to her father re- 
peated themselves in her ears, “ I’m sure I’d be kind 
to that girl if ever I met her, no matter how 
spoiled she is. She’s never had a father for a com- 
rade.” 


44 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ But I can’t,” she groaned to her own unhappy 
image in the glass, “ I don’t know what to say or 
how to begin, and, anyhow, it wouldn’t do a speck 
of good. I’m going to tell Miss Wright — It’s 
too bad to disappoint her — oh,” she gasped as her 
thoughts flew back to the principal’s opening ad- 
dress and her earnest plea for a true lend-^a-hand 
friendship among the girls of Hadley Hall. Eyes 
bright with new resolution she darted into the study, 
where Harriet still sat, a deep, vertical furrow be- 
tween her brows. Alma’s spurt of courage van- 
ished. 

“I — oh — I — was going to — ” she faltered, 
then stopped as Harriet looked at her with a frown. 
“ I want to tell you something,” Alma began again, 
her eyes fixed on her treasured cast of the Venus 
of Melos. That would give her inspiration, she 
knew, for it always brought thoughts of father, and 
her beautiful new comradeship with him. “ It’s 
awfully hard for me to speak about it, but I thought 
it might make things a mite easier for you. I had 
a — dreadful time when I first came to Hadley, 
and if it hadn’t been for one girl I wouldn’t have 
stayed a day. Would you- — do you want me to 
tell you about it ? ” 

Harriet nodded, her face alive with curiosity. 


LEND-A-HAND FRIENDSHIP 


45 


When Alma had told her little story to its end, she 
leaned forward and studied her companion’s face, 
waiting, hoping. Harriet sat kicking one slipper 
off and on. She did not speak immediately. 

“ Of course things turned out all right for you,” 
she began slowly, “ but you aren’t the same kind of 
chicken that I -am. I just can’t and won’t apolo- 
gize, and I guess that’s about all there is to it. 
Besides, you see, you liked that Cordelia girl, and 
so you wanted to stay. Well — I don’t. There 
isn’t a thing here I care about.” 

Alma rose from her chair, her mouth settling 
into lines of disappointment. Her sacrifice after all 
had been in vain. “ I suppose nothing I can say 
will make you change your mind, but your guard- 
ian and Miss Wright’ll be ever so sorry. Will you 
readh me that score of ‘ Koenigskinder ’ on the 
shelf just behind you? I’m going to practise right 
after lunch.” 

“ ‘ Koenigskinder,’ ” Harriet sprang up exci- 
tedly, “ Do you know that music? Have you ever 
heard the opera? I’m perfectly crazy about it.” 

“ Yes, to both your questions,” laughed Alma 
with a curious sense of relief. For almost the first 
time she noticed Harriet’s hands. They were deli- 
cate, tapering hands, full of temperament, the hands 


46 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


of a musician. Something prompted the black-eyed 
girl to break forth into the wistfully tender song 
of the goose-girl under the linden-tree, and she 
sang it in a voice fresh and sweet as a bird’s. 

Harriet listened, lips parted, cheeks flushed with 
interest. “ I believe I could play that on my violin. 
Guardy said I could buy a fine new one and take 
lessons from the best teacher in town if — ” She 
broke off with a little scowl. 

“ There’s a perfect wonder of a new violin 
teacher just come to the city. Dee was telling me 
about her last night,” declared Alma, her hand on 
the door-knob. “ Well, so long, Harriet.” 

Just before the door closed upon her, a voice from 
which some of the self-satisfied quality was gone, 
asked, “ When you pass Miss Wright’s office, will 
you tell her to drop in here ? ” 


CHAPTER III 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 

“ This is chicken-night, chicken-night,” sang 
Alma, bounding out of bed, and sending a swift 
pillow across the room at Harriet, who lay staring 
moodily into a rain-drenched world. 

“ Chicken-night, what’s that? ” yawned the other, 
with a faint show of interest. “ Just see how it’s 
pouring. Don’t you abominate rain ? ” 

“ No, indeed,” Alma answered her last question 
emphatically. “ I just adore it. Rain means to me 
a big, cozy grate-fire and — and mother and me 
sitting in the twilight waiting for father,” she fin- 
ished to herself, “ and mother telling me the most 
wonderful stories.” She crossed over to the win- 
dow and looked out with misty, unseeing eyes. 

Presently she remarked in her usual vivacious 
manner as she threw on her bath-robe, and gathered 
up an armful of bath-towels, “ I hope you realize, 
Harriet Ward, that this is Thursday, and Thursday 
at Hadley means chicken and ice-cream for dinner, 
and some kind of a celebration in the evening. 
To-night we Alpha Iotas are to have our first meet- 
47 


48 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


in g of the year. When you’ve been here a bit 
longer, my child, you’ll become as earthly as the 
rest of us and fairly count the hours till Thursday 
night and chicken come.” 

When she tripped back a quarter of an hour later, 
fresh and rosy, her black hair floating like a veil 
behind her, Harriet was still cuddled among the 
pillows. 

“ You remind me of grandfather’s housekeeper,” 
Alma laughed ; “ she’s the funniest old English 
woman. Grandfather says she’s been in his house- 
hold over fifty years, and oh, how she does love to 
sleep! I told her one night I just hated to waste 
so much time sleeping, and she looked at me so 
surprised. ‘ Law, Miss Alma,’ she said, ‘ when you 
get to be h’old, like h’l, you’ll just drop on to your 
pillow and say ’appy bed, ’appy bed.’ ” 

Harriet smiled, rubbed her eyes, and disentan- 
gled herself from the covers. As she proceeded 
languidly with her dressing, she kept up an un- 
ceasing stream of grumbling. The bed was as hard 
as a rock, it was dark as Egypt’s night outside, and 
inhuman to expect any one to get up at such an un- 
earthly hour, especially on such a dull, dreary day 
and — Suddenly to Alma’s relief she interrupted 
herself to ask, “ Has Dorothy Hall a locket and 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


49 


chain? I know you have, and so have Bubble and 
Trouble Moore. Let me take yours this morn- 
ing? ” 

“ You’re quite welcome to mine,” Alma re- 
sponded, “ but you haven’t forgotten it’s against the 
rules to wear any unnecessary jewelry, have you? 
It was awfully hard for me at first,” she added half 
apologetically, “ but now I like it. Pins and lockets 
and things are an awful nuisance after all.” 

“ I’m perfectly well aware of that rule, Miss 
Polly Prim,” retorted Harriet loftily, “ and if I 
break one of those precious Self-Government rules, 
I’m willing to suffer the consequence, so please dig 
up your locket; I want it now.” 

Alma, cheeks flushing with vexation, hurried 
over to the dresser and thoughtlessly pulled open 
the top-drawer. In two bounds Harriet was upon 
her. “ What are you nosing round in my things 
for?” she demanded angrily. “Didn’t I tell you 
never to touch that drawer ? ” 

Alma wheeled about, eyes a-flame, cheeks and 
lips perfectly colorless. “You — hateful,” she 
gasped, then stopped, too shaken with passion to 
express herself coherently. For a second she glared 
at Harriet, who cowered beneath the blazing fury 
of her eyes. 


50 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Alma, remember, you promised to control your- 
self,” Cordelia’s pleading voice seemed to make it- 
self heard above the surging in her ears. She 
clenched her hands until the nails dug into her palms 
in a fierce effort to drive back the overwhelming 
torrent of anger. It was a hard-fought, hard-won 
victory. Weak and spent she dropped into a chair, 
and covering her face gave way to long, silent sobs 
which racked her slender frame. 

When she was herself again, she raised her head, 
“ I’m sorry, Harriet,” 3he began brokenly, “ but 
you must be patient with me. I’m trying — ah, so 
hard — not to let my temper get the best of me. 
Please forget what I said.” 

She held out her hand, but to her chagrin Har- 
riet turned on her heel. “ I guess you’re not such 
a model girl after all,” she remarked coldly. At 
that instant her eye fell on the open drawer. Tem- 
pestuously she banged it shut and locked it, then 
threw herself face downward among the cushions of 
the window-seat in a burst of tears and sobs. 

Alma half started toward her, but sank back 
again. She was too miserable herself and too 
sorely in need of heartening to try to comfort her 
room-mate. How she longed for her father and 
Cordelia ! 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


51 


“ I’m just the unhappiest thing in all the world,” 
Harriet sobbed noisily. 

“ I’m sorry,” Alma began in a low voice, “ I was 
more than half to blame, I know. You were 
frightened — ” 

“ You’re not to blame.” In her surprise Harriet 
sat up, and let the tears stream down her face. 
“ You didn’t have anything to do with it. It’s 
something I did myself, and I haven’t had a com- 
fortable moment since.” 

“ Oh,” Alma heaved a sigh of relief. “ I’m so 
glad. I mean I’m glad I didn’t make you cry.” 
Then as Harriet fell to weeping vigorously again, 
she crossed over to her side. Laying a gentle hand 
on the heaving shoulder she said in a half whisper, 
“ Could I — do you think it would do any good if 
you told me about it?” 

Harriet shook her head dolorously. “I — only 
did it out of spite — just to get even, you know,” 
she wailed, “ and I’ve had nothing but trouble 
about it all the time. If I only knew what to 
do.” 

“ Perhaps,” Alma suggested, with a nice compre- 
hension of her own inability to straighten out so 
serious a tangle as her room-mate’s tragic manner 
seemed to imply, “ perhaps one of the older girls — 


52 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


oh, I know, tell Miss Wright. She’ll surely help 
you.” 

Harriet sprang to her feet excitedly. “ Not for 
worlds. Don’t you dare breathe a word about it 
to anybody. If you do, I’ll never forgive you.” 

“ I haven’t the faintest idea what it is,” retorted 
Alma, “ so I’m not likely even to hint — ” 

A light rap and two faces, each the counterpart 
iof the other, appearing unexpectedly in the partly 
opened door, made her break off abruptly. 

“We thought we’d ask you to inspect us,” the 
Moore twins sang out jn a chorus, “ Now, can you 
tell us apart? ” 

Hand in hand they came through the doorway 
and made sweeping curtsies to Alma. They were 
dressed identically alike in crackling white linen 
sailor-suits with blue ties, and blue ribbons on their 
bobbing brown braids, but one pair of brown boots 
was laced with brilliant yellow ribbons, the other 
with even more vivid green. 

“ Miss Pillsbury complained she never could tell 
which was which,” Trouble announced in an ag- 
grieved tone. “ Surely, she can’t say that now.” 

“ Certainly not,” agreed Alma with ready polite- 
ness. “ Any one with half an eye could tell exactly 
which is which, but,” her eyes twinkled and a merry 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


53 


little smile curved the corners of her lips, “ would 
you mind introducing yourselves to me again ?” 

“ I’m Bubble Moore.’’ 

“ I’m Trouble Moore,” came almost simultane- 
ously, and before Alma could connect nickname 
and owner, the bright-eyed sprites had clasped each 
other and waltzed themselves out of the room. 

“ There,” Harriet burst out crossly, “ you didn’t 
give me a chance to get a word in edgeways. You 
knew perfectly well I wanted to borrow their 
lockets.” 

“ Ask them at breakfast,” suggested Alma, the 
smile still lingering in the depths of her eyes, “ or, 
if you like,” she added quickly as she noticed the 
frown on the other girl’s face, “ I’ll hunt them up 
now.” 

But the twins were nowhere to be found, and in 
the excitement of running into Dorothy in the cor- 
ridor and discussing with her the important busi- 
ness to be considered that night at the Sorority 
Meeting, Alma completely forgot her room-mate 
and her queer desire to borrow gold chains and 
lockets. 

The morning, crowded full of recitations and 
study-hours, was nearly over before the subject re- 
curred to her. As she was hurrying toward the 


54 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Classical Room, she fell in with Harriet. Her heart 
swelled with sympathy at the sight of her room- 
mate’s face. Harriet was paler than usual, and her 
blue eyes were dark-circled and held a stony look. 
“ I’m so sorry, Harriet,” she whispered, impulsively 
seizing the other girl’s arm. “I — I almost forgot 
— that — you’re to apologize. Won’t you sit with 
me in the front row? It won’t be quite so — so 
hard — I mean,” she floundered, then stopped, 
checked by Harriet’s scornful smile. 

“ Hard ! I fancy it isn’t going to be so hard for 
me as for some other people,” and with this sharp 
retort, she buttoned up the collar of the sweater- 
coat which she wore in spite of the morning’s 
pleasant warmth, and marching into the room took 
her seat in the back row. 

When the class had fully assembled and Miss 
Randolph had marked attendance, the girl rose, and 
with careful deliberation pulled off her sweater- 
coat. Jauntily she swung up to the desk and faced 
the other girls. They caught their breath with a 
little gasp, then an audible titter swept around the 
room. Prompted by some .imp, Harriet had 
clasped about her throat no less than a half dozen 
chains and lockets, and now, as she opened her lips 
to speak, she clutched at the lockets in an open 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


55 


imitation of the teacher’s own action under stress 
of embarrassment. 

“ I apologize for using a ‘ pony,’ ” Harriet mum- 
bled, fingering one locket after the other, then with 
a bow of mock humility walked back to her seat. 

Twenty pairs of eyes searched Miss Randolph’s 
face, but they could detect no sign of annoyance 
there. For a moment she stood before the class 
without speaking, and there was something in the 
earnestness and frankness of her gaze, in the poise 
and erect carriage of that slim young figure, which 
made them realize that they could not if they 
would hold out long against the charm and grace 
of their new Latin teacher. All she said was, “ I 
accept your apology, Harriet, in behalf of the class, 
and hope you will realize that with each individual 
rests the responsibility of upholding the honor of 
the Sophomore Latin Class.” 

During the rest of the day Harriet’s apology and 
the teacher’s serene acceptance of it formed the topic 
of discussion. The story spread among the older 
girls, and while many laughed at Harriet’s sly 
method of retaliation, the majority were ready to 
condemn the insolence of her action. But when 
they trooped into the dining-hall, and took their 
accustomed places at the tables, but one subject was 


56 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


uppermost in their minds. This was Thursday 
night, and to Hadley Hall girls Thursday night 
meant chicken and other favorite viands, topped off 
with — delight of delights — chocolate ice-cream. 

There was the usual buzz and chatter at the 
Sophomore table until the second course came in 
sight. Then a chorus of oh’s and ah’s went up as 
Katie set before Miss Randolph a pair of tempt- 
ingly browned fowl. 

“ Um, doesn’t that smell delicious ! ” 

“ The wing for me, if you please ! ” 

“ White meat for mine ! ” 

“ I just adore the drum-stick, Miss Randolph.” 
For a long minute the Latin teacher eyed the 
platter helplessly, then with a determined air, seized 
the carving-knife and fork and slashed at one 
brown side. The chicken attacked slid the length 
of the dish, and allowed one drum-stick to repose on 
the snowy table-cloth. 

Resolutely Miss Randolph returned to the fray. 
This time she directed her attention to the other 
fowl. With the perversity of its mate it escaped 
her fork, and bounded agilely, as if endowed with 
life, to the platter’s very edge. Several of the girls 
laughed, Harriet most loudly of all. 

With crimsoning cheeks she tried again. Why 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


57 


had she never studied the anatomy of a chicken? 
Why were there no college courses to teach one 
how to carve? 

The girls were silent now, eyeing her uncertainly. 
A glance flashed at the tables about her told her 
that the other chaperones had already dismembered 
the fowls placed before them, and their charges had 
fallen to with the energy and enthusiasm of hungry 
school-girls. Setting her teeth hard Miss Randolph 
drove her fork into the victim’s breast, and thus 
managed to hold it fast while she hacked off one 
wing. 

1 “ It’ll be mighty near midnight before we’re 
served,” grumbled Harriet half under her breath. 
“ Why, I could do it better myself.” 

Dorothy shot her an indignant glance as she 
turned to the chaperone, “ Your knife seems very 
dull,” she remarked in an under-tone. “ Perhaps 
Katie will have the chickens carved for you in the 
kitchen. Last year several of the chaperones didn’t 
like to carve, and always had it done before the 
meat was brought to the table.” 

“ Thank you for the suggestion,” Miss Randolph 
returned with a grateful smile. Then, when she 
had signaled to the maid and given her order, she 
leaned forward, and explained with the shy dignity 


58 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


they were beginning unconsciously to admire, “ I 
have never been called upon to carve before, and 
I didn’t realize how hard it is. I’m sorry I made 
such a botch of it, but I shall ask cook to give me 
some lessons, and I hope to be quite proficient be- 
fore next Thursday night.” 

“ I’m simply starved,” Harriet whimpered. 
“ I’m not used to waiting so long.” 

“ Did’st ever see a wimpuss, Harriet?” one of 
the Moore twins demanded suddenly. Without 
waiting for an answer she turned solemn eyes upon 
the chaperone, “ I suppose you’re perfectly familiar 
with the gobbelo-squamee hunt. No? Come on, 
Bubble,” addressing her sister in a voice of deepest 
melancholy which sent her hearers into a gale of 
laughter, “ let us do a squamee unto death.” 

“ A gobbelo! What’s that? ” Josephine Douglas 
was open-mouthed with wonder, “ and a wimpuss 
too!” 

“ Haven’t you really ever seen a gobbelo ? ” 
asked one of the twins in a pitying manner. 

“ Or a wimpuss? ” The tone of the other twin 
seemed to indicate she could scarcely believe her 
ears. 

“ Or a googly-bug ? ” 

“ A splitherum ? ” 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


59 


“Not even a wibber-vvobber, or a squamee? 
Well, well, ‘ listen, my children, and you shall hear * 
of the tailful gobbelo who hasn’t a tear,” and the 
twins recited in chorus without even pausing to 
draw breath, “ A gobbelo, you must know, comes in 
several sizes, but if you want to buy none genuine 
unless stamped with a label, get one the size of a 
colly- wop. Now, the gobbelo is a most veracious 
creature and — ” 

“ Veracious,” broke in Margarite. “ Aren’t you 
a bit mixed, twinnies? Voracious, isn’t it, Miss 
Randolph? ” 

“ A most veracious animal,” repeated the twins 
firmly, “ and it has never been known to lie even 
when asleep. In warm weather the gobbelo stands 
and waves its long tail over its head like a feather- 
fan, and searches the horizon for a stray squamee 
on which it lives. On cold days the gobbelo winds 
its tail about its body seven or eight times, and as 
a gobbelo is brilliant purple, and its tail is fire-red, 
the combination is rather fetching, you see.” 

They eyed their audience impressively. Katie 
had not yet appeared with the platter of chicken, 
but Harriet had stopped frowning and biting her 
lips, and the others were listening with evident 
amusement. 


60 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Well,” they went on, keeping an eye on the 
kitdhen door, “ a gobbelo has an awful hard time 
catching a young squamee. A gobbelo can’t shoot 
a squamee, because squamees live on bullets, and 
really the only way a gobbelo can catch one, is to 
tack a piece of bacon on the very end of his tail, 
wind his tail about his head, and jump into a mill- 
dam. Now, squamees love bacon, but they don’t 
like to get their heads wet. Well, anyhow, in they 
dive for the bacon, and the gobbelo ties his tail about 
the squamee in a sailor’s knot, and the squamee 
tries to duck his head under his body, and the gob- 
belo gets terribly excited and screams, ‘ Gobbelo — 
Gobbelo — Gobbel — you ’ — and here’s the plat- 
ter of chicken.” 

The girls were still laughing at the Moore twins’ 
gobbelo story when they rose from the dinner- 
table. 

“ Aren’t they perfect dears!” Dorothy slipped 
her arm into Alma’s, and the two hurried into the 
library where the Alpha Iota Meeting had been 
called. 

“ Yes, indeed,” assented Alma enthusiastically, 

“ and the funniest — ” She could not finish, for at 
that moment Virginia Adams, the Sorority Presi- 
dent, rapped for order. When a quiet had fallen, 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


61 


she rose and faced them, a well-set up girl, 
with keen dark eyes and the rich coloring of an 
Italian. 

“ I thought we ought to have a meeting to- 
night, she began with the earnestness of manner 
which characterized her, “ because some of us 
older girls have hit upon an idea for choosing new 
members, and we want to try it out at once if you 
think it’s a good idea. Several of us talked it over 
with Miss Wright, and she’s perfectly willing we 
should put it to the test, at least for this year, and 
if it w T orks well, we can make it one of our laws. 
We all of us know she doesn’t approve of the way 
we’ve selected girls for membership in the Sorority 
in past years. She says we choose only the pretty, 
popular girls.” 

“ How did I ever get in ? ” inquired Mattie Rob- 
bins sotto voce. Her face was so pensive the other 
girls shouted. 

“ Or I ? ” put in one voice after the other with 
mock modesty. 

The president signed for silence. 

“ The idea occurred to some of us,” she went on, 
“ from Tap Day at Yale. A good many of us have 
brothers or cousins or friends at Yale, and know 
just how the Seniors choose members from the 


62 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Junior Class for 4 Skull and Cross-bones/ and 
4 Keys ’ and 4 Wolf’s Head.’ 

44 Well, we thought that each Senior could 
choose in nearly the same way one of the new girls 
for a Sorority member, some one whom she’d like 
to have take her place in the Alpha Iota when she 
has to leave Hadley Hall. Wait,” she held up an 
imperative hand for attention, 44 let me say my say 
to the end, then we’ll discuss the matter as fully as 
you like. Of course, we’ll proceed in any case, in 
just the same way with the 4 rushing ’ and the initia- 
tion, only each Senior’ll make herself to a certain 
extent responsible for the girl she chooses, if we 
adopt this method, and Miss Wright believes that 
while we’ll make mistakes in choosing, yet each of 
us’ll be more likely to select a girl who’ll reflect 
credit for scholarship or athletics or something else 
on her Senior sponsor. Just one word more before 
we begin the discussion. If you decide to carry out 
this plan, we Seniors will try to select our girls 
to-morrow afternoon instead of sending around 
our visiting committee as we’ve done in former 
years.” 

Then the babel of voices broke forth, and for the 
rest of the evening the members argued pro and 
con the suggested method of choosing new Soror- 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


63 


ity sisters. Before the meeting was dismissed, how- 
ever, they had all been won over to the “ pro ” side, 
and the resolution to give it an initial trial the fol- 
lowing afternoon was enthusiastically endorsed. 

“ Of course,” Virginia assured them before they 
separated to their rooms, “ we’ll not have much op- 
portunity to study the new girls, but in these first 
few days I think we’ve made up our minds pretty 
conclusively about the newcomers, and, after all,” 
a little smile lighted up her serious eyes, “ we women 
must trust to our intuitions.” 

Alma and Dorothy were still dwelling upon the 
advantages of the new arrangement as they turned 
down the corridor upon which their rooms gave. 

“ I wonder,” Alma was speculating, “ just who 
will be chosen to-morrow.” 

“ Time will tell, honey-child,” laughed the brown- 
eyed girl, “ but I’m glad I don’t have to make a 
choice. There are so many nice girls among the 
new ones. I know one I wouldn’t choose though,” 
she added, wrinkling up her small nose disdainfully. 
She pointed to the closed door before which they 
stood. 

“ She’ll be one of the first to be chosen,” prophe- 
# sied Alma with a sage nod of her head. “ Harriet 
has a ‘ case ’ on Virginia Adams and she’s already 


64 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


sent her a cartload of pink roses. She told me all 
about it this very morning.” 

Harriet was lounging in an easy-chair, in dress- 
ing-gown and slippers when her room-mate opened 
the door. 

“ I stayed up just on purpose to hear about the 
meeting,” she announced petulantly. As Alma did 
not answer she asked with a hardly concealed 
eagerness, “ Did my name come up for member- 
ship?” 

She listened with unusually close attention while 
the other outlined the new plan the Sorority had 
voted to adopt, then remarked with a careless shrug, 
“ Well, it doesn’t much matter to me the way I’m 
chosen, I’m sure to get in, I know. Harriet Ward 
has never been known to be left out of anything 
worth while, though I do say it as shouldn’t.” 

A sharp retort trembled on Alma’s lips, but she 
wisely restrained herself. “ It’s going to be quite 
exciting, I fancy,” she forced herself to say pleas- 
antly. “ There are only fifteen Seniors who can 
choose, so some girls are bound to be left out.” 

The next afternoon, long before the hour ap- 
pointed for the gathering of the girls, every window 
which afforded a clear view of the spacious grounds 
was crowded with interested Faculty members and 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


65 


friends of the participants. In the flood of amber 
sunlight the lawns stretched out before their eyes 
smooth and green as the greenest velvet. The trees 
in their autumn garb of yellow, red or brown fur- 
nished a touch of brilliant color. When the girls 
all in white, marched into the grounds, Seniors dis- 
tinguished by the yellow-ribbons on their hair and 
left arms, the newcomers adorned with fluttering 
bands of green, they formed a picture of rare love- 
liness. In and out wound the lines until they 
formed a solid H, a proud bugler marshaling them 
in their graceful evolutions. Then at a signal they 
separated, the newcomers and the Seniors taking up 
their positions in the center of the circle into which 
the other classes swung. 

It was an intense moment for the eligibles and 
their faces were white and strained. Membership 
in the Alpha Iota had always been regarded as a 
privilege, something to be coveted. Now it was 
deemed an honor, as the word had gone forth that 
the Seniors would select the girls who most nearly 
fulfilled their ideals. In unbroken silence the circle 
waited, then Mattie Robbins, her color wavering at 
the important decision she was about to make, 
hastened straight as an arrow toward a tall, merry- 
eyed girl with bobbing brown braids, and laid her 


66 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


hand on her shoulder, “ Evelyn Moore, I choose 
you.” 

For the fraction of a second the girl stared 
blindly into her eyes, then answered in a choked 
voice, “ I’m — I’m Effie. Evelyn is over there near 
that pine-tree.” 

Happy young voices raised a shout when Mattie 
Robbins found the other twin and arm about her 
shoulder led her outside the circle. 

Then another last-year girl stepped forward, 
made her choice, and to the accompaniment of 
cheers and hand-clappings led the proud young 
Sorority-member away. 

So each of the Seniors played her part until only 
Virginia Adams and Isabel Thompson remained, 
but there were five of the new girls still to be 
chosen. Which ones would not make the Alpha 
Iota? 

“ O Dee, it’ll be a perfect shame if the other 
Moore twin is left out,” cried Alma in genuine dis- 
tress. “ It’ll spoil all the fun. I hope — There,” 
she gave an ecstatic little scream as Isabel suddenly 
darted forward, and threw her arms about a girl 
who stood pale-cheeked with great expectant eyes, 
a little apart from the others. 

“ Three cheers for Bubble Moore ! ” 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


67 


“ Good for you, Izzie ! ” 

“ Three cheers and a rah, rah, rah ! ” 

Now all eyes were fixed on Virginia Adams. 
She was the last Senior to make her selection. 
Whom would she choose? For an instant she 
stood still, apparently unconscious of the attention 
centered upon her. She seemed to be thinking 
deeply. Presently she half started forward, then 
dropped back again. 

“ Poor Rubber Ball’s sure to be left out,” Dorothy 
sighed in her friend’s ear. “ She’s the kind of a 
girl who seems always to be left out of everything, 
but I can’t for the life of me see why. Just because 
she’s fat is no reason everybody should poke fun 
at her, and she stands it all so good-naturedly, too. 
When I’m a Senior you’ll see me pass by a girl like 
Harriet Ward if she has all the money in the world, 
and can send me oceans of roses and choose a 
really nice girl like Rubber to represent me in the 
Alpha Iota.” 

Alma squeezed her friend’s hand. “ When we’re 
Seniors,” she smiled, “ we’re going to make over 
this funny old world, aren’t we? But I fancy Har- 
riet Ward isn’t horrid all the way through as you 
think. It’s only the top-coating. Sometimes I — ” 
she was too absorbed in watching Virginia to finish 


68 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


her confidence. Rapidly the Senior was making 
her way toward a slender birch-tree beneath which 
Harriet stood, a confident smile curving her lips. 
Virginia seemed to have cast aside all doubt now, 
and swung along with a decided air. Once she 
bent her head to sniff the fragrance of a mass of 
exquisite pink roses and forget-me-nots which she 
wore at her belt. The whole school knew the flow- 
ers were Harriet’s gift. It was not like Harriet to 
keep her floral offerings a secret. 

Just then something impelled Virginia to raise 
her head. She met the eyes of the new Latin 
teacher who was leaning forward in an overlooking 
window, her mobile face alive with interest. 

A curious feeling of shame took possession of the 
Senior and she stayed her steps. Clear as a bell 
rang in her ears her own words spoken the morning 
before, “ Harriet Ward deserves to be punished 
for her insolence to Miss Randolph.” 

For an instant she wavered, glanced down at the 
flowers, took a step in Harriet’s direction, then with 
a shrug of impatience at her own irresolution, 
wheeled about and fairly flew to Catherine Ball, 
who was leaning against a tree, eyes downcast, the 
very image of dejection and loneliness. 

“ Goody, goody,” cried irrepressible Dorothy, 


VIRGINIA CHOOSES 


69 


hopping about excitedly, “ I never was so happy 
in all my life. Let’s go over and congratulate 
Rubber.” 

But Alma hesitated, her face mirroring a mix- 
ture of emotions. “ I’m glad — and I’m sorry,” 
she faltered. “ It’s splendid Rubber is one of us, 
but I know just how Harriet’s feeling this very 
minute. The Alpha Iotas didn’t want me either 
last year,” she added after a moment with a pensive 
little smile. “ Let’s hunt up Harriet, and try to do 
something so she won’t mind so much about being 
left out.” 


CHAPTER IV 


margarite’s best hat 

“ This is the dullest, cruellest old world I’ve ever 
lived in, girls,” Margarite Dunstan heaved an ex- 
aggeratedly doleful sigh as she raised herself from 
the window-seat in Alma’s room where she had 
been sitting Turk-fashion. “ It isn’t enough I have 
to do over an exercise in Latin Comp, on Friday 
afternoon,” she went on in a dismal tone which her 
dancing eyes gainsaid, “ but it must threaten to 
pour, ■and every one of you knows I’m perfectly 
fiendish in rainy weather. It seems to affect me 
in some mysterious way, and try as I will, I just 
can’t be good,” she concluded, with such a wistful 
expression that a heart of stone would have melted. 
Her hearers, however, knew her. They laughed 
unfeelingly. That innocent look usually presaged 
mischief. 

“ It’s perfectly unreasonable of Miss Randolph 
to expect you to work on Friday afternoon, Daisy 
Dunce,” exploded the Moore twins in chorus. 

“ I don’t blame her though for making Harriet 
70 


MARGARITE’S BEST HAT 


71 


do over some exercises this afternoon,” the twin 
known as “ Bubble ” went on, “ she’s a perfect 
bonehead at Latin.” 

“ But Miss Randolph knows well enough we 
planned to spend this whole afternoon making 
paper-roses for our Alpha Iota gym. party,” 
scolded Trouble, “ and we need you. If I had her 
here I’d — I’d — ” She brandished fiercely the 
pair of scissors with which she had been cutting 
the gay tissue paper. “ I’d — ” 

“ You’d probably fall all over yourself to please 
Miss Randolph. Most of us do,” put in Dorothy, 
from the depths of an easy-chair. “ You simply 
can’t resist her when she looks at you with her big, 
soft, shiny sort of eyes, and when she speaks to 
you with that delicious Southern accent, why your 
heart is simply melted to a thousand pieces.” 

“ You’re right, -as usual,” returned Trouble with 
unexpected meekness, “ I’d probably tell her we’re 
thankful to her for removing our dear Daisy Dunce 
when there’ re several hours of work ahead of us. 
She is — ahem, a nice child, but totally unadapted 
to work.” 

Everybody laughed, Margarite the most heartily 
of all. 

“ True, perfectly true, sweet lamb,” she declared 


72 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


with one of her infectious giggles, “ work seems to 
paralyze my faculties, so to speak. But fun — I 
believe I was born on Funny Street. And I warn 
you, this frail and beauteous body won’t contain my 
soul much longer, if something doesn’t happen 
mighty soon to liven up this deadly monotony of 
getting up at 6 a. m. and tucking myself in at 8 130 
p. m. with a generous sprinkling of lessons and 
studying in between.” 

“ Does my memory fail me or was it just last 
Friday you dressed up like an Italian beggar, and 
went round to Miss Randolph’s room, and won her 
tears and money with your affecting story? ” Alma 
inquired with a reflective air. 

The girls shouted with laughter as they recalled 
their favorite’s last escapade. 

“ But the richest part of it all was when Miss 
Randolph asked if you’d ever been to school,” sup- 
plemented one of the girls between giggles. 

“ How you ever kept your face straight when she 
took down your name and address, and promised 
to see about your learning to read, is beyond me,” 
laughed Catherine Ball. 

“ It really did make me feel kind of like a mur- 
derer to fool dear little Miss Randolph,” confessed 
Margarite with such a conscience-stricken air that 


MARGARITE’S BEST HAT 


73 


they all shrieked again. “ She’s so little and sweet, 
and looks so homesicky way up here in the North, 
I’m going to make up to her some day, see if I 
don’t,” and with this dire threat she unceremoni- 
ously swept a pile of books off the table to reach 
a Latin note-book which had been at the very bot- 
tom. Raising it by its shoe-string she two-stepped 
out of the room. 

“ She’ll be back in no time,” prophesied Alma 
with a sage shake of her head, when the sound of 
the boyish whistle had died away, “ and if I know 
the young lady, she’ll have some new mischief 
afoot.” 

“ She certainly made a dandy Italian girl,” began 
Dorothy admiringly, but Alma interrupted with a 
positive, “ Yes, but I knew her right away. I al- 
ways do. She can’t fool me. There’s some- 
thing — ” 

At that moment one of the girls came to her for 
fresh supplies, and she did not finish her sentence. 
The little room looked like a garden of roses when 
some fifteen minutes later there came a timid knock 
at the door. Alma, in whose room preparations 
for the party were progressing, invited the visitor 
to enter. The door remained shut. “ Come in,” 
she called peremptorily. Still no one appeared. 


74 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Then with a little cry of impatience she got on her 
feet, scattering flowers, tissue paper, batting and 
wire in her haste, and flung the door wide open. 

A fat negress of the Southern mammy type, her 
face almost hidden in the depths of a capacious pink 
sun-bonnet, stood before her. Alma had only a 
glimpse of an expansive smile and flashing white 
teeth as the newcomer bowed and scraped, “ I’se 
Aunt Chloe, and I’se looking fer my young mis- 
tiss, but Lor’ bress you, chile, I speck Fse done 
knocked on de wrong doah.” 

“ Come right in, auntie, we’ll help you find your 
mistress,” Alma said with an air of exaggerated 
politeness. Her mouth twitched at the corners as 
with the assumption of a grand manner she of- 
fered her arm. Aunt Chloe appeared to hesitate a 
moment, then with a low chuckle accepted, and 
together they entered the room. 

The girls fairly shrieking with laughter, crowded 
about the strange figure in its gaudy calico gown, 
and all talking at once tried to peer under the broad 
rim of the sun-bonnet. Alma as hostess did the 
honors. “ Sit right down here, Dais — I mean, 
Aunt Chloe. You must be tired climbing all those 
stairs. You seem all out of breath. Pillows are so 
apt to be warm, don’t you know.” 


MARGARITE’S BEST HAT 


75 


“ I’se suttenly out of bref, chile,” wheezed Aunt 
Chloe, falling heavily into the chair which groaned 
under her weight. “ Dat’s hones’ fac\ I toted 
washin’ clean down t’other end o’ town. My 
daughtah, she done wash fer de fust famblies in 
de Sout’, but she kyant do hit no mo’, an’ dis heah 
afternoon a lady what I done know sence she wuz 
a little gal in ole Virginny says to me, ‘ Aunt Chloe, 
I done saw somebuddy t’other day dat ’ud mek 
yo’ ole heart dance fer joy. Yo’ Mistiss Sue is in 
dis heah town up at dat school. An’ my pore sick 
daughtah — she’s pow’ful sick, sick in baid — ” 

“ Tell us about your daughter,” demanded Alma, 
signaling for silence to the other girls, who were 
rocking in their seats with laughter. They found 
their visitor’s air of dignity and volubility simply 
irresistible. 

“ Kyant tell yo-all much,” Aunt Chloe heaved 
a deep sigh, which seemed to begin some- 
where near her feet, and rubbed the back of her 
hand across her eyes. The girls had to pinch them- 
selves to keep from bursting out again. They had 
never seen such clever play-acting before. It was 
perfectly true to life. 

“ My daughtah Sue — I done name her fer my 
young mistiss — my daughtah wuz de bes’ ironer 


76 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


in all de Sout’,” Aunt Chloe appeared to be too ab- 
sorbed in her story to notice its effect on her little 
audience, “ but she kyant do hit no mo’. She done 
breck her laig, and she’s got mis’ry in de back, and 
I jes’ tell you, Missies, it’s jes’ de eddification of 
dat der gal’s life dat her pore old mammy done 
works fer her.” 

“ Such a sad, sad story,” murmured Dorothy in 
mock sympathy, wiping away some imaginary 
tears. “ What do you say to making a contribution 
for her, girls?” 

“ The very thing,” they agreed, giggling at the 
idea. 

Five minutes later they had filled Aunt Chloe’s 
capacious lap and arms with a most curious collec- 
tion of objects. Candy, pencils, ribbons, bits of 
feathers, tinsel roses, cotillion favors, tennis-balls, 
one of Alma’s discarded jackets, Margarite’s best 
hat, a toy elephant and anything and everything 
their ingenuity could suggest. When it seemed as 
if not another thing could be piled on, Alma be- 
thought herself and scurried over to her desk. 
With the manner of one outdoing oneself in char- 
ity, she opened her purse and poured its contents on 
to the heap. Three pennies rattled out. 

“ Yo’ Missies suttenly is kyind,” gasped Aunt 


MARGARITE’S BEST HAT 


77 


Chloe, -apparently overcome by the munificence of 
their offerings. “ Hit’s a good thing I’se got my 
wash-basket downstairs. Hit suttenly is.” 

“ Girls, let’s take off Aunt Chloe’s sun-bonnet 
and try on — ” the Moore twins began with impish 
glee, when a rattle of gravel against the window- 
pane sent them flying across the room. The other 
girls crowded after them. Throwing up the win- 
dow they leaned out, and the others promptly fol- 
lowed. Two small girls stood below. 

“ We’re sent out to walk, now it’s stopped rain- 
ing and we’re starved,” they chorused in a stage 
whisper. “ Won’t one of you please go down to 
our room, and get us two cream-puffs? You’ll find 
’em in my hat-box under the bed,” directed the 
flaxen-haired one. 

“ Poor babes,” commiserated Dorothy, “ of 
course we’ll go.” 

When the girls turned back into the room, Aunt 
Chloe and her new possessions had completely van- 
ished. 

“ Let’s catch Daisy Dunce before she has a 
chance to wash up,” suggested Alma -as Dorothy 
flew toward the little girls’ room. On tiptoes the 
rest of the crew stole down the corridor toward 
Margarite’s study. The foremost turned the knob 


78 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


softly. It yielded, and together they crowded in. 
The room was in such a state of picturesque con- 
fusion that it suggested the idea that a small whirl- 
wind rather than a girl lived there. But Margarite 
was not to be found. 

“ Where do you s’pose — ? ” began Alma when 
the sight of Miss Randolph and the young lady in 
question advancing down the corridor held them 
fast to the spot. Miss Randolph was talking ani- 
matedly, and the girl had her eyes fairly riveted on 
her companion’s face. Alma and the others stared 
in dumb amazement. 

The teacher paused before her own door. “ My 
dear,” the others heard her say with her pretty 
accent, “ I never knew before you were so inter- 
ested in the South. You must spend an afternoon 
with me and see some of the pictures of — my 
home.” There was a little catch in her voice, 
but she hurried on, “ You’d be perfectly fasci- 
nated with some of the cunning little darky chil- 
dren.” 

“ Thank you, I’d love to,” responded Margarite 
demurely, and the demure expression still lingered 
as she hurried toward the girls clustered outside 
her door. 

“ A reception — it’s so nice of you,” she began 


MARGARITE’S BEST HAT 


79 


with wide, innocent baby-blue eyes, but they inter- 
rupted in a breath, “ Where’s Aunt Chloe? ” 

“ And your best hat, Daisy Dunce ? ” supple- 
mented Dorothy, who had come up in time to hear 
the question. 

“ My best hat! Whatever do you mean? ” Her 
tone of genuine surprise brought out the whole 
story. For a moment she looked positively blank, 
then burst out into such a gurgle of merry, rippling 
laughter that they all had to join her. 

“What’s the joke?” demanded the girl who 
recovered her breath first. 

“ It’s not what’s the joke,” giggled Margarite, 
wiping away the tears, “ but who’s the joke,” and 
she went off into another paroxysm. 

Then she recovered herself sufficiently to ex- 
plain. “ I haven’t the faintest idea who Aunt 
Chloe is. You see, some one called Miss Randolph 
to the telephone, and something called me to look 
out of the Classical Room window, and who should 
I spy but a nice-looking old mammy with an empty 
basket on her head, coming up the walk. I just 
believe it was the rain-storm that made me think 
of it, but anyhow, I flew to the door and asked her 
what she wanted. She said she was looking for 
her mistress, and she went on in her funny old way, 


80 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


but I didn’t listen, for I had such a brilliant idea. 
Knowing your suspicious natures, I directed her to 
Alma’s room, and somehow I just fancied you’d 
think she was — well, not herself. I was dying to 
peek in — but I never imagined — oh, oh, my best 
hat! It’s too awfully funny,” she hugged herself 
and rocked back and forth in her glee. 

Then suddenly a thought came which sobered 
her somewhat. “ I loathed that hat, but mother 
refused positively to let me have another this sea- 
son — what in the world shall I wear to church 
Sunday morning? ” 

The others stared at her so aghast at her plight 
that she shook again with unrestrained mirth. 
“ Oh, oh, oh, it’s rich,” she gasped. “ What will 
the Faculty say when I march into church with a 
sweater-cap ? ” 

“ Advertise,” suggested Alma, genuinely con- 
cerned, “ and offer a good, fat reward.” 

“ Splendid,” came in a chorus. But Margarite 
waived the idea aside. “ I’ll ask my friend, Miss 
Randolph,” she said with a sudden inspiration, and 
led the way down the hall. 

Her hand was on the knob when she heard a 
maid’s voice raised in angry accusation. “ You 
stole that hat. It belongs to Miss Margarite Duns- 


MARGARITE’S BEST HAT 


81 


tan, and you just come along with me and give all 
those things back.” Then came another voice tear- 
fully protesting, “ I’se suttenly hones’. De Missies 
done gib me dat hat. Hit’s de Lord’s trufe.” 

The next moment around the curve in the hall 
appeared the maid shouldering a clothes-basket and 
Aunt Chloe, puffing, panting, still explaining. 

In a flash the girls were upon them, Margarite 
in the lead. “ She didn’t steal, Katie,” Alma burst 
out, righteously indignant, “ we gave her those 
things, every single one, and she can keep them — 
all but Daisy Dunce’s hat and — ” 

“ And,” interrupted that young lady with eyes 
a’twinkle, “ we’ll buy that back. How much will 
you take for it? ” in a most business-like manner. 

“ Sho, chile, yo’ hain’t gwine gi’ me nothin’ fer 
dat hat,” declared Aunt Chloe with a good-natured 
grin. “ Hit hain’t wuth nothin’ an’ I speck hit 
hain’t edzactly becomin’. I wuz des gwine ter try 
hit on in de hall, an’ she cotched me.” 

Suddenly she put her hands on her hips with a 
jolly laugh, “ I done know yo’ now. Yo’re de Miss 
what I done ax fer ter see de teacher what wuz 
my Mistiss, an’ yo’ done fool me, an’ tole me de 
wrong doah. I wuz gwine ter see if my Mistiss 
Sue is heah, Miss Sue Randolph.” 


82 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


It was Margarite who flew to the teacher’s door 
and flung it open. For one instant Miss Randolph 
stared, then with a soft little smothered cry of 
“ Aunt Chloe, dear Aunt Chloe,” threw herself into 
the colored woman’s arms. 

“ Miss Sue, my little Mistiss,” Aunt Chloe said 
with streaming eyes as she patted Miss Randolph’s 
back. 

When Margarite had marshaled the girls into 
her room and softly closed the door, she gave vent 
to her feelings by tossing her hat high into the air, 
and catching it on her head. “ I’ve got you again,” 
she cried jubilantly, “ and she’s got her. You 
know, girls, I promised to make up to Miss Ran- 
dolph for the other day. Well, I just believe I 
have.” 


CHAPTER V 


A TORN KIMONO 

Alma’s brows came together in a frown. “ Oh, 
bother,” she murmured, as the rat-a-tap-tap at the 
door grew louder and more insistent. “ I’m just 
bound to finish this prose before the school-bell 
rings.” 

“ You’re too ambitious,” yawned Harriet from 
her seat among the window-cushions. “ I suppose 
you’re going to put Miss Randolph’s eye out in the 
Latin exam, this morning.” She had been polish- 
ing her finger nails vigorously, and now cocked her 
head on one side to gaze admiringly at the tapering 
pink surfaces. 

“ I want to get a good mark at least,” Alma 
declared as she threw down book and pencil with 
an impatient air, and hurried toward the door. 
“ I’ll be in the seventh heaven of bliss if I ever 
hand in an A-plus paper.” 

“ A-plus paper in Latin ! ” Harriet’s pale blue 
eyes grew big and round in astonishment. “ Why, 
I don’t even expect to pass, and I don’t much care, 


84 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


either,” she ended with a defiant toss of her 
head. 

“ Oh, Harriet, you just better. Your monthly 
report depends on this exam.,” reminded the other 
as she flung open the door. Entered Margarite 
Dunstan, her golden hair braided into eighteen pig- 
tails, her dress designed to button in the back, put 
on in a reverse fashion, the left shoe on the right 
foot. She made as sweeping a bow as her attire 
permitted. Then with an uncertain gait she ap- 
proached Alma, who now stood, lips perfectly 
grave, eyes dancing with delight in the center of 
the room. Casting a huge red mitten at Alma’s feet, 
she began in a loud, sing-song tone, “ My lady doth 
challenge your Royal Highness to a game of tennis 
at recreation hour this morning.” 

Alma who knew well that this was initiation 
week, and Margarite was “ fagging ” for Dorothy, 
exclaimed in pretended surprise, “ By my hali- 
dame, damosel, I wot not you nor your fair 
lady.” 

With a humble mien which her merry eyes be- 
lied, Margarite faltered, “ I am but a poor hand- 
maiden in the service of her gracious Majesty, 
Lady Dorothy Hall.” 

“ Go tell your beauteous lady sterner duties 


A TORN KIMONO 


85 


await me,” said Alma trying in vain to repress a 
smile, Margarite cut so comical a figure. “ Tell 
her I will do her unto death some day in a tennis- 
game, but not this morning. I must wrestle in mor- 
tal combat with my Latin, so I return her knightly 
gauntlet.” 

Her laughter broke forth when Margarite swept 
her another lowly curtsy, then backed from the 
room as a mark of deference to the superior per- 
sonage whose presence she was leaving. She 
laughed so deliciously and spontaneously that Har- 
riet smiled in spite of herself. 

“ Wasn’t she too perfectly absurd? ” Alma wiped 
her eyes, and dropped back into her easy-chair. 
“ Initiation week is such fun. The new girls always 
have to do such ridiculous stunts.” As Harriet did 
not answer, Alma flashed her an uneasy look. The 
blue eyes were filled with tears and Harriet s lip 
was quivering. 

“ Poor girl,” Alma sympathized to herself, “ I 
know just how hurt she feels. What a goose I was 
to say anything about the Alpha Iotas when she 
was left out.” Her eyes were riveted on her Latin 
prose note-book, but her mind searched busily for 
some subject she could bring up to dispel her room- 
mate’s present unhappiness. “ Harriet, she burst 


86 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


out in a relieved tone, “ won’t you get Miss Hill 
to show you how to play tennis? You’d certainly 
enjoy it after you knew how, and Dorothy Hall is 
a cracker- jack at it — and she’d be glad, I mean, 
she’d help you with the game, and — and — ” She 
broke off, her enthusiasm killed by the scornful look 
on the other’s face. 

“ I’ve told you at least a dozen times I don’t go 
in for athletics,” was the ungracious reply. “ I’m 
not strong enough,” she added in a pleasanter tone, 
“ and, besides, I don’t want to hurt my hands in 
any way; I’m simply wild to begin my violin-les- 
sons, but, of course, Miss Wright won’t let me 
unless my reports are perfectly satisfactory for this 
first month. That was my guardian’s clever idea,” 
she finished sarcastically. 

“ I don’t believe it would hurt your hands to 
play tennis,” Alma reverted to her first contention. 
“ You know Dorothy plays the piano beautifully, 
and anyhow, hockey certainly would be good for 
you, and help you grow strong. We’re going to 
form our Sophomore team this coming week, and 
I do wish you’d join one of the practice teams. 
You see, our class is very small for some reason 
or other, and we want every girl in the class to 
take an active part.” 


A TORN KIMONO 


87 


“ I don’t want to; it’s too hard^work,” responded 
Harriet so sulkily that Alma decided never to men- 
tion the subject again, dear as it was to her loyal 
' heart. Immediately she plunged into the midst of 
her studying, and in the stress of taking the exam- 
ination and preparing for other tests, which were 
to be given the following morning, she held no 
further converse with her room-mate during the 
day. 

That night as she was making ready for bed, 
there came a light tap at the door, and simultane- 
ously Dorothy Hall inserted her head. “ Where’s 
Harriet ? ” she asked in a sepulchral whisper. 

“ Down in the Study Hall,” Alma answered. 
“ Come on in. Let’s sit on the bed and talk. I’m 
tuckered out, and was going to tumble in before 
retiring-bell.” She had shaken out the rippling 
splendor of her hair and it almost completely 
cloaked her. 

“ You’re a perfect gipsy.” Dorothy took one 
heavy strand of the black hair and held it out at 
arm’s length. 

“ And yours always reminds me of the rhyme 
in the old fairy-story, * Lettice, Lettice, let down 
your hair that I may climb without a stair, re- 
marked the other girl, gazing admiringly at the 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


long braid of living gold which hung way below 
her friend’s waist. 

“ Well, honey-child,” laughed Dorothy, “ I hope 
Shakespeare didn’t mean us when he said, ‘ She 
hath more hair than wit and more faults than hairs.’ 
I just dropped in, childie, to breathe in your ear 
that the month is up, and I’m praying Miss 
Wright’ll let me come back to Happy Valley — 
and you again. Footsteps approach. It’s Har- 
riet.” With a hurried kiss she made her escape. 

A cheerful little clock on Alma’s desk struck 
nine as Harriet opened the door, and dragged her- 
self in. Wearily she threw herself into the nearest 
chair. 

“ Tired?” asked Alma sympathetically, turning 
away from the mirror. By this time she had plaited 
her hair into a heavy satiny braid. 

“ Dog-tired, and nervous as a witch,” came in a 
querulous tone. “ I’m not used to studying this 
way, I can tell you, but I just had to get up some 
algebra for that test to-morrow, or Pink Pill,” her 
favorite name for Miss Pillsbury, the algebra 
teacher, “ would report me, and I do want decent 
standings this month. You don’t know how I ache 
to play on a violin!” Alma regarded her in sur- 
prise. The blue eyes were wistfully big and eager. 


A TORN KIMONO 


89 


“ O Harry,” Alma exclaimed fervently, for the 
first time according her room-mate that mark of 
favor, a nickname, “ do your kvel best so you can 
take lessons, and perhaps you can play accompani- 
ments for me. Won’t that be grand! You and 
Dorothy and I ! ” 

The color flamed into Harriet’s usually sallow, 
unhealthy-looking face. For the moment she cast 
aside her bored manner, and asked with a pathetic 
earnestness, “ Will you and Dorothy really play 
with me some time? She doesn’t like me, does 
she? Tell me honestly.” 

With the spirit of candor that always brought 
the truth to her lips, Alma faltered, “ N-no, but 
I think she’s going to. Anyhow, I know she’ll ac- 
company us if — ” 

“ Never mind,” Harriet lapsed back into her old 
irritable self. “ She doesn’t like me any better than 
I do her. Besides, I sha’n’t be able to take lessons. 

I flunked flat in Latin Comp, this morning.” She 
turned away to hide the tears of self-pity that' 
welled up in her eyes, and without another word 
began to undress. 

For some reason unaccountable to herself, Alma 
had difficulty in settling down to sleep that night. 
Visions of mistakes she had made in the Latin test 


90 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


that morning rose up and haunted her. Resolutely 
she put these tormenting thoughts from her. Then 
her mind wandered to her room-mate and her 
problem. “ I didn’t need Dee to tell me the month’s 
up to-morrow,” she smiled to herself in the dark. 
“ Haven’t I been counting the days ? Oh, how I 
hope Miss Wright will let Dee move back right 
away! Of course, I’ll try to be kind to Harriet, 
and drop in to see her real often, but it’s Dee I want 
for a room-mate. Poor Harriet,” she sympathized, 
punching the pillow into a more comfortable posi- 
tion under her head. “ It’ll break her heart if she’s 
flunked her Latin, and can’t have a new violin. 
Maybe she’s done better in the test though than she 
thinks,” and with this comforting reflection she 
sailed away on a wave of sleep. 

It seemed to her but a minute or two later when 
the sound of some one moving in the room brought 
her to a sitting position in bed. 

“ What’s the matter, Harriet ? Are you sick ? ” 
she asked, now fully awake. 

“ No,” came in whispered tones from the other 
side of the room, “ I’m just hunting for my ki- 
mono, and I didn’t want to disturb you by turning 
on the light.” Alma could feel her eyes widen at 
this unusual thoughtfulness on her room-mate’s 


A TORN KIMONO 


91 


part. “ You see, I forgot to put my watch under 
my pillow,” the hushed voice went on, “ and I got 
up and felt around for it on the dresser, but it isn’t 
there, and I think I must have left it in the Study 
Hall.” 

“ It’ll be perfectly safe there,” declared Alma, 
settling back on her pillow again. “ You can get 
it the first thing in the morning,” she ended with 
a stifled yawn. 

“ Some one might take it.” Harriet, bare feet 
in Turkish slippers and a kimono over her night- 
gown, was making her way carefully over the floor 
toward the door. “ I wouldn’t lose it for worlds. 
My father gave it to me when I was ten years old.” 

“ If you’re afraid to go alone,” began Alma 
drowsily, but Harriet had already turned the knob 
softly, and slipped out. 

“ She’s braver than I’d be, to go — poking — off 
— in the — dark — ” Before the thought was 
complete, she had fallen fast asleep. 

The sound of hurrying feet and the tearing open 
of the bed-room door roused her from a pleasant 
dream. She opened her eyes and in the moonlight 
could see Harriet leaning against the door-frame 
as if too weak or terrified to move. 

“ What is it?” she cried in genuine alarm, and 


92 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


like a flash she was out of bed and had snapped 
the light on. 

Teeth chattering, face and lips snowy white, 
Harriet clung limply to the door-knob. “ Tell me 
what’s happened,” demanded Alma, in excited 
tones, as she seized her room-mate’s fingers and 
led her to an easy chair. 

It took a full minute before Harriet could con- 
trol herself and her voice sufficiently to stammer, 
“ I — saw — a ghost.” 

A low ripple of mirth escaped the other girl. 
“ A ghost ! ” she giggled. “ Oh, Harriet, you’re 
too funny.” 

“ Hush,” Harriet started nervously, “ maybe it’ll 
follow me here.” 

“ Nonsense,” exclaimed Alma with energy, at 
the same time slipping a comforting arm about the 
trembling shoulders. “ We’re more likely to wake 
Miss Randolph or some one of the Self-Govern- 
ment Committee. Come, let me tuck you up in 
bed the way Cordelia did me last year when I was 
more than usually miserable.” 

She helped Harriet to her feet, and began draw- 
ing off her kimono. “ Why, what have you done 
to your lovely kimono ? ” she asked, holding up the 
garment for the -other’s inspection. “You’ve torn 


A TORN KIMONO 


93 


off at least a yard from this one side. Isn’t it a 
shame? All the girls say it’s the prettiest kimono 
in school,” she added in a regretful tone. “ I just 
adore those big gold dragons crawling over that 
blue satin.” 

“I — I d-didn’t tear it,” answered the other with 
chattering teeth, and her face grew fairly livid. 
“ It was the g-ghost.” 

Alma looked her surprise and incredulity, and 
after a moment the tremulous voice began again, 
“ I hunted all over in Study Hall for my watch, 
and I couldn’t find it, and I was just giving up 
in despair when I remembered I went in the Clas- 
sical Room to look at a map, and perhaps dropped 
it there, and so I opened the door, and the light 
was going full blast, and there was a tall white fig- 
ure standing near the desk, and I started to run, 
and scream, and it caught hold of me, and I jerked 
away, and I don’t know what happened until I got 
here. I never was so scared in all my life.” She 
trembled so violently that Alma made all haste to 
put her to bed, and after tucking her in, was about 
to slip back into her own place again, when Harriet 
asked in a small, piteous voice, “ Won’t you please 
sit here a little while? ” 

“ Why, of course,” Alma responded promptly, 


94 


ALMA'S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


her quick sympathies roused by the other’s suffer- 
ing. Her hand in her room-mate’s, she sat on the 
edge of the bed until the deep regular breathing 
assured her the magic wand of sleep had swept 
Harriet’s troubles away for the time being at least. 
As she crept wearily across the room, the pale gold 
of the October moon fell full on some shining ob- 
ject. She stooped to pick it up and smiled to her- 
self. “ It’s Harriet’s watch,” she said half-aloud, 
“ pinned fast as you please to her kimono, and she 
had all her trouble for nothing. Won’t she laugh 
about the ghost in the morning, though?” 

As the haze of sleep cleared away the next morn- 
ing she raised herself on one elbow, and called 
across to her room-mate, “ Good joke on you, Har- 
riet — ” then broke off in astonishment. The small 
white bed opposite was empty. “ Whatever can 
have happened? ” She sat up and stared. “ Noth- 
ing short of an earthquake could make Harriet 
Ward get up until the last possible moment, and 
then one after that.” 

Presently, because she was filled to the brim with 
health and joy of living and the room was stream- 
ing with golden sunlight, she was singing to her- 
self as she began to dress. And as she sang, she 
smiled at the black-eyed young person in the mir- 


A TORN KIMONO 


95 


ror, and the black-eyed young person in the mirror 
smiled back at her, and altogether she was in the 
happiest mood possible. She was just indulging 
in her favorite fancy that she was a wonderful 
operatic singer, and was moving a vast audience 
to tears by the power and sweetness of her voice, 
and her glorious acting, when the door was burst 
open, and a youthful figure in immaculate white 
linen dashed in. 

“ You seem in a hurry, Dee,” laughed Alma as 
her friend threw her tennis-racket into the nearest 
chair, and proceeded to tie a white ribbon about 
her soft brown hair. 

“ I’m not in a hurry, I’m excited,” Dorothy an- 
swered as soon as she could get her breath. 
“ There have been some mysterious things going 
on in Hadley, I can tell you,” she gazed signifi- 
cantly into the other’s eyes. 

“ What in the world — ? ” 

“ You see,” continued Dorothy calmly, enjoying 
the eager interest her listener was displaying, 
“ Miss Randolph promised to play a tennis-set be- 
fore breakfast, and when I went to call for her, 
she wasn’t in her room, so I ran down to the Clas- 
sical Room, and found her there, and she was in 
the biggest stew. She’d got up early to correct 


96 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


exam, papers, and they were — gone. She hunted 
everywhere, and I helped her, too. But we couldn’t 
find them, and she went off to report it to Miss 
Wright. Then I dropped in to Rubber’s room to 
see if Drusilla could tear herself away from grind- 
ing long enough to play a set. She’s a wonder at 
tennis, when you can get her to play. Drusilla 
wasn’t there, and Rubber said she had gone to the 
infirmary with a cold and some kind of fever. She 
woke Rubber up in the middle of the night she was 
muttering and talking so funny. Mercy, me, but 
I hope Hadley isn’t in for an epidemic of scarlet 
or something dreadful. I’ll never forget when our 
whole school was in quarantine once on account of 
a scarlet fever scare.” 

“ But what do you suppose has become of the 
test papers ? ” Alma began, eyes flashing with ex- 
citement. “ Surely you don’t think some one — .” 
She broke off aghast at the very idea. 

“ I certainly do, and so does Miss Randolph, and 
I think from something she said, she’s found some 
positive proof of who it was,” nodding her head 
sagely. 

“ Have you any idea ? ” pressed Alma, catching 
her breath in a short gasp. 

“ Of course I have, and so have you,” with some 


A TORN KIMONO 


97 


warmth; then as Alma shook her head in vigorous 
denial, Dorothy laughed and said, “ Well, you are 
an innocent, Alma mia. Isn’t there just one girl 
in the class who’d be capable of such a thing? ” 

“ Oh ! ” Alma picked up a book from her desk, 
and opened it at random. The printed page blurred. 
The next instant she threw it aside and walked 
over to the window. Her eyes were fixed on a young 
poplar dancing in the wind and turning up the white 
of its leaves, but her mind was revolving busily 
about the events of the past night. 

“ Oh ! ” she exclaimed again, a*nd as she wheeled 
about, the other noticed the tense look about her 
mouth. “ It isn’t possible, Harriet — ” 

At that instant Harriet entered the room. With 
a chill little bow to both girls, she walked over to 
her desk, and began to write hurriedly. 

“ Did you find your watch ? ” Alma brought her- 
self to ask. “ You left it pinned on your kimono,” 
she volunteered the information as the other shook 
her head without looking up, “ and I meant to tell 
you the first thing this morning, but you were 
gone.” 

“ I was looking for it,” Harriet answered as 
she went on with her writing. “ Thanks ever so 
much.” 


98 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Aren’t you coming to breakfast ? ” Alma ven- 
tured, her hand on the door-knob. Dorothy had 
already tripped into the hall. 

“ Not this minute/’ muttered Harriet. Half to 
herself she added, “ I can’t go with you when she’s 
along.” 

Alma eyed Miss Randolph with frank curiosity 
as she slipped into her seat at the breakfast-table. 
But the face of the young woman behind the coffee- 
urn was tranquil and sweet, and she returned the 
girl’s greeting in her usual friendly fashion. She 
was in the midst of an animated discussion with 
Margarite Dunstan as to the respective benefits of 
hockey and tennis when Harriet entered the room. 
Her voice was perfectly steady, but Alma’s alert 
eyes saw the wave of color which swept into her 
cheeks as Harriet with a mumbled apology for her 
tardiness slid into her chair. Several times during 
the remainder of the meal she caught the teacher’s 
eyes fixed on Harriet with a deeply pained look. 

When the school had gathered in the Assembly 
Hall for the opening exercises, Miss Wright rose 
from her desk. She seemed her usual gracious, 
well-poised self, but the deep gray eyes which re- 
garded the rows of young faces before her, had 
lost something of their all-pervading trustfulness. 


A TORN KIMONO 


99 


The blood beat hard in Alma’s pulses at the first 
words. “ A disagreeable task, my dear girls, loses 
part of its unpleasantness if it is performed at once. 
So I am going to tell you, before proceeding with 
my morning talk, of a loss that the school has suf- 
fered. Hadley Hall lost something inestimably 
precious last night; it lost the privilege of believ- 
ing in each and every one of you. You will appre- 
ciate better what I mean when I tell you a roll of 
Latin test papers disappeared last night from Miss 
Randolph’s drawer. I shall not stop to discuss the 
motive of the act, but merely ask you to consider 
this point that until the girl who removed the pa- 
pers, admits her wrong-doing, she selfishly throws 
the guilt on every person in the school. For the 
sake of the innocent ones who must shoulder this 
heavy burden, as well as for the girl’s own self- 
respect, I want to urge the one who took the papers 
to come to me during this morning’s recreation 
hour and talk over the affair.” 

The room quivered and hummed with excite- 
ment, but not a word was spoken until classes were 
dismissed. Then a din of voices rose, and only the 
prompt and efficient work of the guards of the 
Self-Government Committee prevented a scene of 
disorder in the halls. 


100 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Every recitation was shot through with this air 
of suppressed excitement, and even the experienced 
teachers found themselves taxed to maintain the 
girls’ interest. At the luncheon table no other sub- 
ject was under discussion, and whenever the chap- 
erones tried to introduce a fresh topic, just like 
the pendulum of a clock, their charges swung back 
to the moot question, “ Who was the girl and had 
she confessed? ” 

Alma and Dorothy, arms entwined, were stroll- 
ing down the corridor toward their rooms when 
Miss Wright appeared around a corner in the hall, 
and came toward them. 

“ I want to speak to Harriet alone, Alma,” she 
began at once in what she strove to make a placid 
tone. “ You and Dorothy go for a walk for about 
fifteen minutes. Be back,” she glanced at her 
watch. “ at half-past one for your rest-hour, and 
when that’s over, come to my study, please.” 

The school-clock boomed out the half-hour as 
Alma gently turned the knob of her door. Her 
heart felt very heavy. How she dreaded and feared 
to meet her room-mate! Harriet would undoubt- 
edly be sarcastic and defiant, and perhaps even make 
light of her offense. She would try to be kind and 
act as nearly like generous-minded, sympathetic 


A TORN KIMONO 


101 


Cordelia as she could, but she knew her innate 
scorn for a dishonest act would crop out. 

Harriet was standing at the open window when 
she entered. For a moment she kept on creasing 
the soft curtain with nervous fingers, then swung 
about. Their glances met, uncertainty melting into 
pity on the one side, wistfulness, almost entreaty 
on the other. 

“ Miss Wright thinks I took those papers,” she 
said dully, and tears slipped down her cheeks. 
“ She didn’t exactly say so, but I know she does. 
Miss Randolph found this on the door-knob.” She 
snatched a piece of her silk kimono from the win- 
dow-seat. “ I told her the ghost tore it.” She 
choked and turned her head away. “ She didn’t 
believe me,” she managed to add. 

“ Neither do I,” was on the tip of Alma’s tongue, 
but she checked herself in time. Cordelia would 
have thought of something consoling and cheering 
to say. She was casting about for a tactful remark 
when suddenly the other girl caught hold of her 
hand. “ Do you believe I — stole those papers ? ” 
she demanded, a frightened expression in her eyes. 
“ Does Dorothy think so, too ? ” 

Alma did not answer, and Harriet stood before 
her, miserably, abjectedly silent. Then she threw 


102 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


herself into a chair, bowing her head on her hands. 
“ I’ve done lots of things I shouldn’t have, I know,” 
she said in a muffled voice, “ but, as true as I live, 
I didn’t have anything to do with those papers. It 
looks as if I did, on account of that piece of my 
kimono hanging to the door-knob, and my handing 
in such a poor paper.” She was half-sobbing now. 
“ But honest, honest, Alma,” she raised a face quiv- 
ering with intensity, “ I didn’t touch those papers.” 

Alma looked for one long moment into the depths 
of the tear-bright eyes, then said earnestly, “ I be- 
lieve you, Harry. Everything does look as if you 
did it, but, somehow, I feel you’re innocent.” 


CHAPTER VI 


ALMA DECIDES 

Alma divided rest-hour that afternoon between 
scowling at her clock, which ticked away the min- 
utes so slowly, and tossing restlessly on her bed. 
What did Miss Wright want of her? Would she 
mention the loss of the test-papers? Would Miss 
Wright ask her to tell of Harriet’s actions the 
night before? Did the principal remember that 
the trying month of rooming with Harriet was at 
an end that day? Would the hour never pass? 

The instant the chime sounded she was on her 
feet. Smoothing her hair and slipping into a fresh 
“ Peter Thompson,” she was just tearing out of 
the room when something made her turn back and 
look at her room-mate, who lay curled up among 
the cushions in the window-seat. 

“ Harriet,” she began hesitatingly, “ wouldn’t 
you like to come down to the hockey-field with me 
at four this afternoon and see some of the fool 
stunts the girls that are going to be initiated will 
have to do ? ” 


103 


104 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Miss Wright said I was to stay in my room 
the whole afternoon,” came in a stifled voice, “ and 
decide if I have something to tell her. But I 
haven’t, Alma, for I didn’t touch those papers, and 
I haven’t the faintest idea where they are.” 

Alma lingered a moment, wishing she could 
think of something encouraging to say, for the 
pathetic droop of the other girl’s mouth and the 
hopeless tone went straight to her heart, but she 
always found it difficult to express sympathy and, 
besides, she told herself, with an impatient shrug, 
Harriet hadn’t been what you could call a pleasant 
companion during the weeks they had roomed to- 
gether. So when she shut the door behind her, she 
turned her thoughts resolutely in another direction. 
She was walking soberly down the hall when she 
fell in with the Moore twins. Each seized her by 
the arm, and proceeded to draw her in opposite 
directions. 

“ A game of tennis ! ” 

“ No, you promised me first to go rowing.” 

“ Tennis ! ” 

“ Rowing ! ” 

“ Tennis!!” 

“ Rowing!!” 

“ My dear twinnies,” Alma released herself with 


ALMA DECIDES 


105 


difficulty, and examined each arm with concern. 
“ I’ve far more important business on hand than 
to play with either of you. Fm on my way to Miss 
Wright’s study. So run along, both of you, like 
good children.” 

“ Miss Wright’s study,” chorused the twins. 
“ Ha, we’ve found you at last. The mysterious 
Miss Ruffly Fluffles. Tell us where are those pa- 
pers? Have you eaten them, or worse still, used 
them for curl papers ? ” 

Alma reddened, laughed, and ran down the hall. 
Over her shoulder she called back, “ Just wait till 
initiation night. That’s the time to pay up scores 
like this.” 

As she drew near Miss Wright’s study-door, she 
owned to an overwhelming nervousness. Just an 
instant she paused to gather herself together. Her 
hand was already on the knob when the door 
opened, and Mattie Robbins and Virginia Adams 
came out. They were too deeply engrossed to 
notice her, so she shrank back against the wall and 
waited for them to pass. She couldn’t help over- 
hearing part of their conversation. 

“ I felt almost positive this morning she did it,” 
Virginia said in her emphatic way, ‘ but now we 
can be quite certain.” 


106 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ What a goose she was to drop the roll of pa- 
pers into her own coat-pocket,” reflected Mattie, 
“ especially when her coat was hanging on the hall- 
rack. She might have known they’d be found 
sooner or later.” 

“ She probably intended to destroy them, and 
didn’t have time,” suggested Virginia. “ They 
say even the cleverest criminals bungle the simplest 
thing sometimes.” 

“ Well,” sighed Mattie with a doleful expression 
on her usually merry face, “ it’s up to the Self- 
Government Committee to 4 suit the punishment to 
the crime,’ and that’s what worries me.” 

“ Good for Harriet,” Alma smiled happily to 
herself ; “ they’ve found the guilty person, and her 
troubles will soon be over.” The smile was still on 
her lips when she opened the door. 

Miss Wright rose from her Morris-chair by the 
window to welcome her. Instantly the quiet, re- 
poseful air of the room soothed the nerves of the 
young girl, and she felt herself quite at ease when 
Miss Wright drew up a chair for her, vis-a-vis to 
her own. Neither spoke for a moment. The gray 
eyes were noting the blackness of Alma’s hair and 
eyes, her pure forehead and the smile full of win- 
some innocence. “ You must pardon me, Alma,” 


ALMA DECIDES 


107 


the principal said, “ I am looking for some trace 
of your mother.” 

Alma leaned forward eagerly. “ Do I — do I 
even remind you — of her? ” 

“ Not in looks, my dear, except when you smile,” 
Miss Wright answered absently, and lapsed into 
silence. Soon she roused herself. “ You are glad, 
I don’t doubt, that your month of rooming with 
Harriet Ward is over.” 

Alma slid in her eagerness to the very edge of 
her chair. 

“ I fully intended to ask you if you would be 
willing to shoulder your burden a little while 
longer,” the principal went on before the girl could 
speak, “ but now,” a pained look darkened her 
eyes, “ I feel I haven’t the right.” She paused, then 
with her usual straightforwardness, asked gently, 
“ Please tell me just what you know of this dis- 
tressing affair.” 

Alma fidgeted uncomfortably, threw Miss 
Wright an appealing glance, which that lady com- 
pletely ignored, then in a low voice began her 
story. When she had finished, there was no sound 
in the room except the ticking of the clock on the 
mantel. 

“ She told me the same story,” Miss Wright said 


108 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


presently with an impatient sigh. “ Of course, the 
ghost-story is all rubbish. She undoubtedly caught 
her kimono on the door-knob, and tore it herself — 
but I have been hoping against hope all afternoon 
that the rest of it was true. ,, 

She spoke the last words as if to herself. She 
waited a moment. “ I think it is only fair you 
should know the whole of it,” she said at last. 
“ The papers were found in Harriet’s coat-pocket. 
She left her coat on the hall-rack at the end of your 
corridor last night when she came in from her walk, 
and the papers dropped out when Katie picked up 
her coat to hang it up. Dorothy may move back 
into your room to-morrow morning,” she concluded 
abruptly. 

Alma’s eyes flashed. She opened her lips to ex- 
press her thanks. A sudden thought brought her 
to her feet. She hesitated, then came a hurry of 
hot words. “ I can’t explain why, but I don’t be- 
lieve Harriet did it. I know I can’t give any rea- 
son, but I feel it inside of me somehow. Maybe, 
it’s all cir — some kind of evidence, I’m afraid I’ve 
forgotten just what it’s called,” she ended shame- 
facedly. 

“ Circumstantial evidence.” Miss Wright’s face 
brightened, then grew sad again. “ I’m afraid not; 


ALMA DECIDES 


109 


everything seems to prove conclusively it’s Har- 
riet’s work. There’s not another girl in the class 
who would have any reason for doing such a dis- 
honorable thing.” To herself she added, “ Besides, 
this is not her first offense.” After a moment she 
asked, flashing a smile at the young girl, “ Do you 
suppose you and Dorothy can bear the separation 
one night more? ” 

Alma studied the pattern of the Oriental rug 
beneath her feet intently before she answered. She 
was wrestling fiercely with herself. When she 
looked up at last, her eyes were swimming in tears, 
and her lips and chin trembled. “I — I want Dee 
for a room-mate more than I can tell, but some- 
thing just makes me stick to Harriet. I feel she 
hasn’t done wrong.” With that she rushed from 
the room. 

Tears stood in Miss Wright’s eyes as from her 
doorway she watched the retreating form. “You 
dear,” she murmured. “ I only hope you’re right.” 

Ten minutes later Alma was racing across the 
school-grounds apparently in the gayest of spirits 
to join the group of girls already assembled on the 
hockey-field. As she came within ear-shot, gay 
young voices called out, “ Hurry, we re waiting 
for you.” 


110 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Coming,” she shouted, making a megaphone 
of her hands, then as Dorothy ran forward, and 
drew her along with both hands, she added in a 
lower tone intended only for her friend’s ears, 
“ I don’t know what you’ll think of me, Dee, but 
I’m going to stick it out a while longer with Har- 
riet.” 

Dorothy stood still, and looked at her with eyes 
full of bewilderment, incredulity, disappointment. 
“ Wh-y-y,” she began slowly, but stopped as sev- 
eral of the others cried out impatiently, “ O you 
snails ! ” 

Alma had just time to squeeze her friend’s fingers 
and whisper, “ Don’t be cross, Dee, I had to, I’ll 
tell you all about it as soon as I can,” when the fun 
began. 

“ Rubber Ball,” cried Virginia Adams, “ step 
forward.” And roly-poly Catherine, togged in the 
tightest of hobble skirts, a brilliant yellow and red 
striped “ blazer ” jacket, a large beplumed picture 
hat and high-heeled dancing slippers, presented her- 
self. Virginia immediately produced a peanut, 
opened the shell, and stripping one nut of its cov- 
ering, handed it and a needle to the freshman. 

“ Kindly roll the peanut down the hockey-field,” 
directed the Senior in the soberest of tones. 



“ ‘ KINDLY ROLL THE PEANUT DOWN THE HOCKEY- 
FIELD,’ DIRECTED THE SENIOR ” 


/ ■* 






























































































































































































































































































































ALMA DECIDES 


111 


With becoming meekness Catherine seized the 
needle and the nut, and tried to carry out the order. 
Amid jeers and shrieks of laughter from the on- 
lookers she managed to stoop sideways, and start 
the nut on its journey, but the exertion made her 
face a turkey-red, and threatened to split her ex- 
aggeratedly narrow skirt. The feat was accom- 
plished at last with considerable difficulty on the 
part of the performer and to the unceasing amuse- 
ment of the other girls. 

Then Margarite Dunstan was haled into their 
midst and bidden to roll a boiled egg up a hill. 
The gay crowd followed her in her parlous task, 
shouting with delight at every failure, and giving 
no end of misleading advice. Another girl was 
set to measuring the length of the hockey-field with 
a banana, and a companion in misery was given 
the same task with a lump of sugar for tape- 
measure. 

Presently the Moore twins were seen running at 
full speed in the direction of the hockey-field. 
Shouts and a volley of applause greeted them as 
they drew near. They were dressed identically the 
same, as Billikens, and their fatuous smiles sent the 
girls almost into convulsions. They were immedi- 
ately told to juggle a Japanese umbrella and a thim- 


112 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


ble, and their manoeuvres brought the spectators 
to the verge of hysterical tears. Next came a trio 
of girls garbed as washerwomen. Armed with 
buckets and every variety of cleaning implements, 
from scrubbing brushes and mops to tooth-brushes, 
they were set to work to give the statue of John 
Hadley, the founder of Hadley Hall, its annual 
scrubbing. 

In the meanwhile the sun had been slowly dip- 
ping toward a bank of clouds. For a moment it 
lighted up the splendor of the frost-touched trees 
and the girlish figures in a golden glory, then sank 
from sight. Twilight came on swiftly, and in the 
fragrant dusk each girl produced a pretty Japanese 
lantern which she proceeded to light. Carrying 
aloft bobbing, gleaming lanterns, one by one they 
fell into line and began a picturesque serpentine 
march. Then their soft voices broke the stillness 
of the night. They sang through almost their en- 
tire repertoire of school songs from “ Every girl 
wants to be a true Alpha Iota,” to “ Here’s to 
Hadley Hall, our dear Alma Mater.” 

In the confusion of separating to their rooms, 
Alma had no chance for any confidences with Doro- 
thy. “ I’ll drop in right after dinner and tell her 
all about it,” she promised herself as she reached 


ALMA DECIDES 


113 


her own door. She had already turned the knob 
when some one called, “ Oh, Miss Alma.” 

Alma wheeled about, and faced a maid. 

“ August told me to ask you to come down to 
the barn early this afternoon,” confessed Katie 
humbly, “ but I clean forgot.” 

“ Never mind, Katie,” the girl declared with a 
pleasant smile, “ I met August myself, and prom- 
ised to bring some liniment I bought for Patsy — 
he’s got a sore leg — and I was the one that for- 
got — I’ll get it now.” 

Plunging into her room Alma fumbled about in 
the dark for the switch, at the same time inquiring, 
“ Harriet, where are you? Why didn’t you turn 
on the light ? ” 

There was no answer. 

“ Harriet,” she called a second time, but the 
sitting-room was empty. It took but a minute to 
dash into the bed-room and find that her room- 
mate was not there. An odd, startled look came 
into her eyes. She hesitated a second, then tore 
open the closet-door. Harriet’s hat and coat were 
gone, and her suit-case too. “ She’s run away,” 
flashed into her head. “ Now I know how Cor- 
delia felt that first morning when she couldn’t find 
me. What shall I do?” Suddenly she laughed. 


114 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ She probably knew she’s not to room with me 
any longer, and has begun to move her belongings,” 
was her comforting thought. “ Well, I’ll not make 
poor Patsy wait a minute longer for his liniment. 
I’m horribly ashamed of myself that I neglected to 
give it to August hours ago, and then I’ll hunt up 
Harriet myself.” 

Pulling on her sweater she plunged down a rear 
flight of stairs, and the next minute was scudding 
through the kitchen, and out across the large back 
yard of Hadley Hall. “ It’s kind of creepy. Ugh, 
how dark it is! I didn’t realize it was such a long 
walk from the kitchen to the barn. I’ll just keep 
close to the picket fence — I’ll have August as my 
enemy forever if I step into his precious vegetable- 
garden.” 

She had already gone over half the distance 
when she stopped and gave a little frightened 
scream. “ Who’s there ? ” she cried in a small 
voice. She listened breathlessly for the answer. 
Not a sound was to be heard except the subdued 
twitter of a sleepy bird, and the cool-scented wind 
in the tree-tops. Plucking up her remnant of cour- 
age she took a step nearer the dark object faintly 
discernible on the other side of the fence and called 
again, “ Who’s there? Is it you, August? ” 


ALMA DECIDES 


115 


The next minute she heard an unmistakable sob, 
and Harriet’s voice crying, “ Alma, Alma, I’m — 
caught.” 

Shouting a word of courage, Alma flew to the 
rescue. “ What in the world — ” she demanded, 
but her room-mate interrupted shakily, “ Hurry 
and get me off. I couldn’t open the gate, so I 
jumped the fence — and one of those miserable 
pickets caught in my skirt, and I can’t get it off, 
and I’ve been — h-here just hours.” 

“ You poor child! ” Alma was tugging with all 
her might to release the girl whose skirt held her 
like a vise though her feet were on solid ground. 
“ Oh, dear, I can’t seem to budge your skirt, and 
the material’s so strong it won’t tear. I guess,” 
she puffed, “ I’ll have to cut it. It’ll take me just 
a jiffy to run back to the kitchen and borrow Brid- 
get’s scissors.” 

But Harriet’s torrent of tears stayed her. 
“ P-please d-don’t,” she managed to gasp. “ Every 
one’ll hear about it, and they’ll think it’s a good 
joke. I was — running away, you see.” 

“ I do see,” said Alma, struggling hard to stifle 
her laughter. Harriet’s predicament struck her as 
irresistibly funny. She was properly cloaked, 
hatted and veiled for flight, and on the ground lay 


116 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


her handsome alligator bag with its ivory furnish- 
ings. 

“ Well, if you won’t let me cut your skirt,” 
she began dubiously, “ and it won’t tear, I don’t 
know — Oh,” she exclaimed in a jubilant tone 
as her quick wits suggested a way, “ I’ll unhook 
it at the top and you’ll have to get out of it 
somehow.” 

In less than three minutes Harriet was released 
and properly clothed again. She picked up her 
bag, then hesitated. “ I’m not going to stay at 
Hadley,” she said defiantly. “ Mattie Robbins told 
me the papers were found in my coat-pocket,” she 
choked, and began to walk slowly away. 

Oh, how Alma longed for Cordelia or for some 
other head older and wiser than her own! She 
stood still a moment and thought hard. Then she 
caught up with Harriet. “ Put your suit-case here, 
it’ll be perfectly safe in the darkness,” she said 
quietly, “ and help me find August,” and before 
Harriet could refuse, she had slipped her arm 
through the other girl’s, and was hurrying her 
along. 

A light in the barn guided their steps, and si- 
lently the two made their way. “ August, Au- 
gust,” called Alma, pulling open the barn-door, and 


ALMA DECIDES 


117 


instantly the good-natured German, the unfailing 
friend and ally of every Hadley Hall girl, appeared. 
All in a minute she handed him the liniment, ex- 
plained its use, apologized for her delay, and petted 
Patsy, who lay curled up on a comfortable straw- 
bed, trying to express his affection with a small 
scarlet tongue. 

During the walk from the barn to the fence, 
Alma was busy thinking. By the time they reached 
the place where they had left Harriet’s traveling- 
bag, she had decided upon her course. 

“ Let’s sit on the gate and talk for a few min- 
utes,” she suggested, a mischievous little gleam in 
her eyes. “ Then I must fly back or I’ll be late for 
dinner, and you can go where you planned to go. 
Did you know we call this the ‘ Wishing Gate ’ ? ” 
she inquired as she helped Harriet up beside her. 
“ Whenever we wish anything real hard, we come 
out and swing on this gate.” 

“ Does your wish come true?” asked Harriet 
with a faint show of interest. 

“ Oh,” Alma laughed carelessly, “ do 1 the wishes 
that you wish on the first load of hay or the first 
star you see in the evening come true? Mattie 
Robbins says you have to sit on a wishing-gate at 
the magic hour of midnight with a monkey-wrench 


118 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


in either hand to make a wish come true, but I 
don’t believe any of the girls have tried it. Where 
are you thinking of going ? ” she inquired po- 
litely after a moment’s silence. “ I thought 
you said your house in Fogg’s Ferry is closed 
up.” 

“ It is,” Harriet dashed away a tear, “ and my 
guardian is in Berlin,” she added forlornly. “ I — 
I don’t know just where I am going,” she raised 
her head in the defiant manner her room-mate had 
come to know and dread, “ and I haven’t much 
money, either. I don’t get my allowance till next 
week, but one thing’s sure, I won’t stay here, where 
every one thinks so dreadfully of me.” She choked 
back a sob. 

“ Not every one,” said Alma, softly. 

“ Do you mean it ? When you know the papers 
were found in my coat? Honest, Alma?” 

“ Honest Injun,” laughed the other girl, and put 
her hand on the one beside hers. To her surprise 
Harriet seized her fingers and pressed them fer- 
vently. 

“ You’re a dandy girl, Alma,” she said between 
her sobs, “ and I can never be grateful enough to 
you.” She made a heroic effort to regain her self- 
control. “ Why, — why do you believe I didn’t do 


ALMA DECIDES 


119 


it when everything looks dead against me, and I 
told you I’d flunked my Latin, and you knew how 
crazy I am to take violin lessons ? ” 

“ I can’t for the life of me say why I believe 
you,” Alma declared truthfully, “ but I do, and 
that’s all there is to it. Maybe it’s my ‘ woman’s 
intuition/ ” she laughed gleefully. “ Maybe be- 
cause I saw how frightened you were by the ghost. 
And maybe — ” she added after a little pause, 
“ because I don’t believe you’d do such a thing.” 

There was another pause, full of significance 
for at least one of them. Then, to her own amaze- 
ment, Harriet heard herself confessing in an ago- 
nized tone, “ But I did do it once in Fogg’s Ferry, 
and no one seemed to think it was anything but 
a joke. My teacher, Miss Betts, was angry at first, 
but I sent her some flowers and took her to the 
theatre a couple of times and she laughed the whole 
thing off. I guess she didn’t dare stay angry at 
me, because I own about seven-eighths of the 
town.” There was the old boastful note in her 
voice, and Alma cut in hurriedly, “ Of course, 
things are different here, and you couldn’t cover 
a dishonest thing with a whole ocean of flowers 
or theatre tickets at Hadley. I was just thinking, 
Harriet,” she went on innocently, “ I’ll have a hard 


120 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


time convincing Dee or any of the other girls I’m 
right about you after you’re gone. They’ll think 
you ran away because you were found out.” 

This was a poser, and Harriet recognized it as 
such. “ I suppose you’re right,” she admitted pite- 
ously, “ but how can I go back and face them all, 
especially after I’ve — ” 

“ No one need know anything about it,” Alma’s 
assured manner brought courage into her hearer’s 
heart, “ except Miss Wright, and we’ll go to her 
this minute. If we hurry,” she proceeded artlessly, 
“ we can catch her before she leaves her study.” 
Even before she finished she had slipped to her 
feet, and was helping her companion down. 

“ I can’t, oh, I can’t,” wailed Harriet. “ She’ll 
never forgive me for not staying in my room, and 
all of it.” 

“ Tell her the truth, and you’ll find her the love- 
liest person in the whole world.” She was half- 
leading, half-dragging the other girl. They hur- 
ried along without another word through the dark- 
ness. Only Alma had ears for the shadow sounds 
and mysterious breathings that crept out of the 
stillness. 

Just before they turned in the path that led to 
the kitchen-door, Harriet caught the other girl’s 


ALMA DECIDES 


121 


hand. “ What makes you so nice to me when you 
don’t really like me ? ” 

Alma laughed. “ How do you know I don’t like 
you?” she parried, then added in a serious tone, 
“ I don’t think I’ve been real nice to you, but if 
I have, it’s all on account of Cordelia Everitt, the 
girl I told you about. She’s the happiest girl I 
ever met, and I believe I’ve found out why. She’s 
always giving , and I remember she once said the 
more you give, the more you have, something like 
the ‘ miraculous pitcher ’ and I’m finding out it’s 
really so. I once read a story about a girl who 
said she’d learned the secret of being happy. It 
was to join the service of ‘ Fairy Give ’ instead of 
‘ Fairy Take.’ ” 

Just as Alma was dropping off to sleep that night, 
Harriet’s voice aroused her. “ What you said 
about Miss Wright’s true. She was ever so kind. 
And, Alma — I’m going to ask Miss Hill first 
thing to-morrow morning if I can be on the hockey 
team.” 


CHAPTER VII 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 

Alma bounded up the path that led from the 
little boat-house, arms heaped with cushions, cheeks 
scarlet from the tang of the autumn air. 

“ Been canoeing alone? ” asked Josephine Doug- 
las, running across the lawn to meet her. Her 
small elfin face was alive with curiosity. 

“ No, goosie, don’t I know it’s against the rules 
to canoe alone? ” Alma called over her shoulder as 
she flew along. “ Bubble Moore and I have had one 
grand paddle,” she explained as the other caught 
up with her. “ She’s down at the boat-house with 
Miss Hill locking up.” 

“ Harriet’s gone to the infirmary,” announced 
Josephine, as the two mounted the front steps to- 
gether. She dearly loved to be the first to tell a 
piece of news, and she communicated her informa- 
tion in the present instance with a most important 
manner. 

“ She has ! ” Alma stood still in her surprise. 
“ Why, she wasn’t sick when Bubble and I started. 

122 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 


123 


She said she wasn’t going out this afternoon till 
she had her Latin done. We have an exam, to- 
morrow.” 

“ That’s just it,” Josephine nodded knowingly. 

“ I guess she didn’t want to do her Latin so she 
faked up a headache, and got sent to the infirmary.” 

Alma bit her lips to keep back an exclamation 
of impatience at her room-mate’s conduct, and 
Josephine, finding the silence which followed un- 
comfortable, made some excuse and darted away 
to retail her gossip where it would cause at least 
a slight stir. 

“ Hello, girl. Come on in,” a merry voice in- 
vited as Alma turned into her corridor. The door 
stood open hospitably, and Mattie Robbins on a 
pile of cushions on the floor, strumming a guitar, 
flashed her a smile of welcome. “ Tea’ll be ready 
in two minutes. Got any crackers? ” 

“ Yes, indeed. I’ll dump this armful of cushions 
in my own room, and have the crackers here in a 
jiffy,” declared Alma, out of the room before she 
had half finished her sentence. 

True to her promise, she was back in a moment, 
and tossing the box of crackers into her friend’s 
lap, flopped on to the sofa crowded with gay pillows. 

“What makes you look so owlish, Alma?” in- 


124 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


quired Mattie, meanwhile twanging away at her 
guitar. She eyed her guest with frank interest, for 
the young girl had established herself firmly in Mat- 
tie’s graces. 

“ I didn’t know I was looking owlish,” a dimple 
appeared in the corner of Alma’s mouth, “ but I 
really am dreadfully cross. I lost my Alpha Iota 
pin.” 

“How?” Mattie managed to crowd a world of 
sympathy and regret into the one word. 

“ Bubble gave me and my sweater an unexpected 
ducking, and when I leaned over to shake off some 
of the river from my sweater, kerflop, in went my 
pin.” 

“ Well,” consoled the other, rising to pour the 
tea, “ it’s a good thing we had to put off initiation 
night. You’ll have plenty of time to order another. 
You wouldn’t dare appear at the banquet, you know, 
without your pin.” 

“ I do know,” Alma shook her head ruefully, 
“ and it’s going to take just about all of my allow- 
ance for some time to pay for it, too.” 

“ I might just as well own up to it,” Mattie said 
when she had settled herself luxuriously among the 
cushions again, between sips of tea, “ that I’m dying 
with curiosity to know how you fixed things up 



u c 


I LOST MY ALPHA IOTA PIN 








THE ACTRESS* PARTY 


125 


with Dorothy when you decided to stick to your 
present room-mate.” 

“ We did have rather a bad time,” admitted Alma 
closing her eyes as if to shut out an unpleasant 
memory. “ But Dee is too sweet a girl to hold a 
grudge, and we’re better friends than ever. I’m 
hoping before long something will turn up. to con- 
vince her and — and all of you Harriet didn’t do 
that dreadful thing.” 

“ You’ll never convince me,” Mattie set her cup 
and saucer down on the floor beside her with such 
emphasis that Alma expected to see them in pieces. 
“ But the joke was on her after all, wasn’t it, for 
she did just manage to skin through on that test, 
and for punishment had to take another, and give 
up violin lessons for another month at least.” 

“ She — ” began Alma in eager-eyed defense, 
but stopped short as Virginia Adams appeared in 
the doorway. 

“ I smelled the tea and lemon,” the newcomer 
explained, helping herself without invitation, “ and 
you’ll appreciate my fainting condition when I tell 
you I spent the last hour wrestling about our Alpha 
Iota banquet with Miss Wright.” 

“ Victory?” questioned Mattie laconically. 

“ Defeat,” Virginia responded in a lachrymose 


126 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


tone. “ She doesn’t approve of our elaborate ideas, 
and thinks a school sorority is nothing but a hot- 
bed for snobs, anyhow.” 

“ We didn’t admit the queen of snobs,” declared 
the other Senior, elevating her eyebrows signifi- 
cantly. Virginia flushed at the memory of her 
temptation. 

“ No, but she thinks Harriet is just the girl who 
needs to join a sorority if it’s the right kind. Har- 
riet labors under the mistaken but common idea, 
quoth our good principal, that you can buy friend- 
ship or anything else with money, and she needs 
to be taught that you can’t. But the long and 
short of it is, she put her foot down on our Italian 
rose-garden idea for the banquet.” 

“ And crushed the roses,” cut in Mattie with a 
wicked gleam in her eyes. “ Well, roses are apt 
to be an expensive luxury at this time of the year 
and we’d certainly need a couple of oceans of them. 
Now, the question before the house is, what novel, 
original, inexpensive form of entertainment can we 
provide — Oh,” she interrupted herself to inquire, 
“ but how soon can we have initiation? ” 

“ The scarlet fever scare is all over, and Drusilla 
Evans is pretty nearly all right now. The doctor 
says it was just a case of working herself into a 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 


127 


fever from homesickness and grinding and the rest 
of it. But we certainly must arrange for our ban- 
quet very soon or the Sophomore party and Thanks- 
giving vacation will be upon us before we can turn 
around.” 

“ Oh, for an idea, my kingdom for an idea.” 
Mattie rumpled her curly red hair wildly. “If only 
Cordelia Everitt were here ! That girl has a drawer 
somewhere in her head crammed full of wonderful 
ideas.” 

“If only Cordelia were here!” Silently Alma 
echoed the wish for the thousandth time since the 
beginning of the school year. During the conver- 
sation between the Seniors, with the humility be- 
coming a Sophomore, she had remained silent. 
“ Couldn’t we — couldn’t I write Cordelia and ask 
her to suggest something ? ” she summoned up 
courage to ask. 

Mattie considered the question with wrinkled 
brow and pursed lips. “ There wouldn’t be time,” 
she brought out the ultimatum finally. “ It must 
all be the work of our clever brains. I’m sure be- 
tween us all we can think up something brilliant.” 

Her hearers did not share her smiling confidence, 
and Alma’s face still wore a doubting expression 
when she went back to her own room. 


128 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ I don’t believe I’ll ever have a glimmer of an 
idea for the entertainment, Elaine,” she confided to 
her rag-doll, who sat in state in her mistress’ desk- 
chair. “ I wish — oh,” she broke off with a gleeful 
little cry as she spied an unopened letter on her desk. 
“ From Cordelia, the dear thing.” She had already 
torn off the envelope and her eye went racing down 
the page. 

“ Dear Honey,” she read, “ Here I am writing 
to you when I ought to be studying away at my 
Math, for dear life, but there are so many things 
I want to tell you — 

Thirty Minutes Later 

“ Was interrupted by a couple of Sophs, who 
came to call. Have only time to tell you I’ve been 
made Chairman of the Com. of Arrangements for 
the Fresh. Thanksgiving party and we’ve decided 
to give an actress’ party — each girl dressed like 
her favorite actress in her favorite part, you know. 
It’s going to be heaps of fun. Wish you could be 
here to see it. Sunday I’ll write you a whole vol- 
ume. My very bestest. 

“ Your loving older sister, 

“ Cordelia.” 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 


129 


“ An actress’ party,” repeated Alma gleefully, at 
the same time executing a dance of triumph which 
Elaine appeared to survey with round, approving 
eyes. “ It’s the very thing, and I know Mattie will 
think it’s a glorious idea. As usual, it’s Cordelia 
who’s just around the corner when we’re in a fix. 
I’m going to tell Mattie this very minute.” 

Dancing down the hall she knocked and opened 
the door simultaneously. The room was deserted. 
“ Goose,” she apostrophized herself, “ don’t you re- 
member she and Virginia were going to town with 
Fraulein to a concert late this afternoon? Well, 
I guess it’ll keep until to-morrow morning. I sup- 
pose I’d better hie me over to the infirmary and 
see if Jo’s tale is true.” 

She found Harriet in a most elaborate boudoir- 
cap and kimono in one of the small white beds 
gazing languidly out of the window. On a table 
beside her stood a green jar full of dewy, fragrant 
red roses. 

“ How’s the invalid, and aren’t they beauties ! ” 
the visitor exclaimed in a breath. 

“ They’re the only thing that ever help my head- 
ache,” came in such feeble tones that Alma’s eyes 
twinkled, “ so I always send for them right away.” 

“ I should think they’d cure anybody’s headache. 


130 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


They’re such darlings. Are you — are you subject 
to these sudden headaches ? ” Alma inquired po- 
litely, perching on the edge of the bed. There was 
such a quizzical look in her black eyes that Harriet 
fidgeted uncomfortably and stammered, “ Not often 
— sometimes — that is, when I study too long.” 

“ And have a Latin exam, for the next morning,” 
teased the other. “ Well, Harriet,” she seized the 
prostrate girl’s hand, and pretended to take her 
pulse with a comically exaggerated professional air. 
“ I think you’re going to recover. I shall leave you 
some medicine in the shape of a box of candy which 
I wish you to take ten times an hour, and by eleven 
o’clock to-morrow — your exam, is at ten, I am 
told — you will be able to be up and around.” 

“You goat!” snapped Harriet. But the next 
moment she laughed aloud. “ It really was awfully 
funny, though. It made me think of a fussy old 
doctor at home. Oh, don’t go,” she pleaded as 
Alma started toward the door. “ You’ve loads of 
time to dress for dinner.” 

“ I want to drop in and see Drusilla a moment, 
and I have a very important matter to talk over 
with Dee as soon as her tennis-set is over. I sup- 
pose the child is in the private room. Can anybody 
see her? ” 


THE ACTRESS* PARTY 


1S1 


Harriet nodded. “ Miss Morton was just in here, 
and said Drusilla is ever and ever so much better, 
and she did wish some of you girls would come to 
see her, she seems so terribly blue.” 

Alma was back in a minute. “ I want to borrow 
one of your roses, Harriet. I’ve a very bad case 
of something worse than a headache to cure.” 

“ Take ’em all,” Harriet waved her hand with an 
expansive gesture. “ I’ve ordered a whole conserv- 
atory of flowers for to-morrow morning.” 

But Alma was deftly arranging a single one with 
a blood-red heart in a tall glass vase. “ A la Jap- 
anese,” she said as she tripped away. 

The small face, white as the pillow it rested 
against, brightened perceptibly when Alma and her 
offering appeared. “ That’s right, Drusilla,” was 
the hearty greeting. “ Smile for the lady. It’s 
ever so becoming.” 

“ I love flowers,” Drusilla just breathed the 
words, then something in Alma’s sympathetic si- 
lence urged her to go on in her shy, appealing man- 
ner. “ At home I have a garden, and father says I 
just coax the flowers to grow by ‘ Opelske.’ That’s 
a Norwegian word, and means ‘ loving up ’ flow- 
ers,” she explained bashfully. 

“ Flowers always make me happy, too,” Alma 


132 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


dropped into the low chair beside the bed, “ but 
I’ve never had a garden. I’ve always lived in the 
city, in hotels, you see, but grandfather has a per- 
fectly wonderful one, over in England, and he 
adores flowers, too. It’s real funny the way he 
and Andy, the old gardener grandfather’s had for 
years, squabble about the amount of sun this kind 
of a flower needs, and the shade that one must have. 
Why, you’d think they were talking about children. 
Grandfather says a person is very fortunate if he 
comes into this world with a love for flowers in 
his soul.” She smiled down into the little face that 
seemed all big blue eyes. 

“ I wish you could see my garden some time,” 
Drusilla said eagerly. “ I have violets and roses 
and lilies and sweet peas, mignonette and helio- 
trope, and wall-flowers — did you ever smell wall- 
flowers? It’s just like smelling the sweetest per- 
fume — and honeysuckle too, and there’s a little 
arbor, and it’s just covered with a veil of wild 
cucumber blossoms and — ” She stopped, her eyes 
swimming in tears, and turned her head. The next 
instant she was swiftly brushing the tears away. 
“ Being sick makes me act like a baby.” 

“ I don’t think you’re acting in the least like a 
baby,” protested Alma earnestly, “you — ” She 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 


133 


glanced up, as the nurse in her pretty white cap and 
gow r n appeared in the door. She came forward, 
hands outstretched in welcome. “ You’ve done my 
patient good already, Alma,” she said in her hearty 
way. “ I’m just going to give her a dose of her 
medicine, and then you may visit for another half- 
hour if you like.” 

There was a clinking of bottle and glass, a tea- 
spoon held tenderly to the patient’s lips, a grimace 
on Drusilla’s part after the medicine had disap- 
peared, and the two girls were alone again. 

For a moment the black eyes looked deep into 
the blue ones, blue as a bit of Delft, and Alma’s 
unusual intuitive powers helped her read what was 
written there. “ This has been a dreadful few 
weeks for you, hasn’t it, childie?” Her voice 
thrilled with sympathy. 

Drusilla caught her under-lip between her teeth. 
She was a girl who felt intensely, but a natural re- 
serve made her seem impassive, emotionless. Now, 
under the warmth and sweetness of the other’s tone 
and manner she melted completely. “I — I want 
my mother, that’s all,” she choked. When she had 
mastered herself again, she held out one thin little 
hand, and the color flamed into her wan cheeks. 
“ I don’t want to tell — I never tell,” she began 


134 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


with a strange fierceness, but as Alma took her hand 
in a gentle clasp, she went on more quietly, “ I 
think it would help me, though.” 

The other nodded, with eyes full of understand- 
ing. 

“ For the last month the black cat’s been at our 
house,” Drusilla said. 

The girl in the low chair looked her surprise. 

“ Don’t you know what that means? We always 
say that when we have a run of bad luck, and we’ve 
surely been having it. Father’s store burned down 
after I’d been here a week, and mother slipped and 
sprained her arm, and my two little brothers came 
down after that with measles, and my sister’s hav- 
ing trouble with her eyes.” She waited a minute, 
her gaze turned toward the open window through 
which floated the happy voices of the girls, deep 
in a hockey-game or tennis-set. The sinking sun 
was casting a golden glow on a tree overshadowing 
the infirmary, and lingering caressingly on the few 
scarlet leaves still on the boughs. Her thoughts 
had flown home. Presently she said half to her- 
self, “ I’ve been waiting for two whole years to 
come to Hadley. Mother was here when she was 
a girl, and she’s always promised herself and me I 
could come and get ready for Vassar in three years, 


THE ACTRESS* PARTY 


135 


and that’s why I’ve worked so hard to get ahead. 
I wanted to make the two classes this year, but now 
— the doctor says — ” Tears of weakness would 
roll down her cheeks in spite of the impatient hands 
which dashed them away. “ I know perfectly well 
I ought to keep my troubles to myself. I always 
do. I guess my being sick has gone to my head, 
but I just have to tell the last straw. I ordered a 
new suit from the tailor’s, and it came the week 
before I took sick and father sent me money to 
pay for it, and when I went up to town the next 
Saturday I — I lost it — my pocket-book — and 
twenty-five dollars.” 

“ Who was your chaperone? Didn’t you look for 
it? Why didn’t you advertise or tell the police or 
do something?” Alma’s eyes were big and bright 
as she poured out the questions. 

“ I was too frightened and — and ashamed,” 
confessed the other, nervously lacing and inter- 
lacing her fingers. “ But please promise not to 
say a word about this to any one.” 

“ Let me tell just Miss Wright,” pleaded Alma. 
“ She’ll surely know what’s best to do.” 

“ Please, please,” begged the younger girl, almost 
reduced to tears, and Alma at last- sealed the prom- 
ise with a warm hand-clasp. 


136 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


The days before the initiation fairly scampered 
past, they were crowded so full with preparations 
for the banquet and entertainment which were to 
surpass all former efforts. On the afternoon of the 
eagerly-awaited day the members of the Sorority 
were gathered in the gymnasium working with taut 
nerves, anxious faces and chattering tongues to 
make the business-like looking gymnasium take on 
a festive air. 

“ Here, Alma, you’re quick as a kitten,” cried 
Virginia Adams, hurrying up to the group of girls 
engaged in festooning green and white bunting 
over the gallery rail. “ Help me set up this con- 
traption. I do hope,” she heaved an anxious sigh, 
“ this is going to be a success.” 

“ It’s going to be a corker,” the other girl as- 
sured her with all the fervor she was capable of. 
“ Why, I’m positive it’ll be the greatest initiation 
night the Alpha Iotas have ever seen.” 

“ Here’s hoping,” ejaculated the Senior, tossing 
back damp wisps of hair, and mopping her per- 
spiring brow. “ By the way, girlie, has your pin 
been sent up yet? ” 

“ N-no,” stammered Alma, who had flushed pret- 
tily at the friendliness of the other’s manner. 

“ Well, you’d just better scuttle down to the 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 


137 


’phone this very minute,” advised Virginia in her 
decided way, regarding the corner she was decora- 
ting through narrowed lids. “ I know from sad 
experience that Jenks and Williams are mighty fine 
jewelers, but perfect slow-coaches when it comes to 
delivering things. You tell them they must send 
your pin by special delivery. Make them under- 
stand the heavens are going to fall if it’s one minute 
late.” 

“ They can’t send it,” faltered the Sophomore, 
crimson to her ears. 

“ Can’t,” Virginia said through a mouthful of 
pins. “ You ordered it over a week ago, didn’t 
you?” 

“ Y-yes, but I had to countermand the order.” 

“Why?” There was the hush-before-the-storm 
note in Virginia’s voice. 

Suddenly Alma recovered her self-possession. 
Swinging her skirts like an embarrassed child, she 
came close to the Senior, and with one bashful 
finger stuck in her mouth and rocking back and 
forth, she sang out in a high, childish treble, 
“ Spent my penny for can-dy, and et the can-dy 
all up.” 

“ Nonsense,” Virginia tried to be severe, but her 
lips puckered into a smile, and the smile crinkled 


138 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


up her eyes. “ Tell me why you countermanded 
the order.” 

“ Did tell the truth,” persisted the younger girl. 
“ Spent my money, and won’t get any more till the 
end of the month.” 

“ You could have borrowed the money or charged 
it.” 

“ Not without disobeying father.” Alma’s eyes 
grew mistily tender, “ and I never disobey him — 
now.” She spoke the last word under her breath, 
and her face shone with a wonderful inward light 
as she whispered to herself. “ Comrade, he calls 
me Comrade.” 

“ Well, I’m ever so disappointed in you, Alma. 
I thought you were devoted heart and soul to the 
Sorority,” and before the younger girl could reply, 
she turned on her heel and joined a little knot of 
Seniors who were enjoying some joke hugely to 
judge from their merry ripples of laughter. 

Some hours later the gymnasium was aglow 
with a weird red light and resounded with uncanny 
cries. The members of the Alpha Iota Sorority, in 
Egyptian garments of flaming scarlet, their faces 
and arms stained a rich, dusky hue, forehead, wrists 
and arms weighed down with curious pieces of jew- 
elry, were performing a strange dance to the beat- 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 


139 


in g of the drum. Round and round a center plat- 
form on which lay fifteen mummified bodies, 
swathed in perfumed silk, they leaped. And as they 
danced, they chanted queer, unintelligible words, 
and now and then paused to allow the wailing of 
the sacred cat, which bore a striking resemblance 
to the housekeeper’s Peter, to be heard above the 
din. Then they ceased their rhythmic measures and 
advancing two by two, raised the mummified bod- 
ies of their new members and bore them as a sac- 
rificial offering to a huge statue of Moloch, which 
clever girl-fingers had fashioned from the old, long- 
suffering gymnasium “ horse.” 

When these mysterious rites had been performed, 
and the “ mummies ” had cast their silken wrap- 
pings aside, and become full-fledged Alpha Iotas, 
the banquet was served. The tables with their 
softly-shaded lights and graceful floral decorations 
were arranged in the shape of the letter “ H,” and 
pretty girls in pretty gowns with gay, lilting laugh- 
ter and merry sallies made it truly a gala sight. 
Never before had there been a toastmistress so 
clever, toasts so witty, every one assured every one 
else, and altogether it was the most wonderful ban- 
quet in the history of the Sorority. 

Then when they had feasted and toasted and 


140 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ roasted ” to the satisfaction of each and every 
one, and sung round after round of song, the So- 
rority President arose, and invited the new members 
to be the Sorority’s guests at a so-called actress’ 
party. 

Presently the small audience had found their 
seats, and then a quiet fell as the curtains slid apart, 
and Dorothy Hall as “ Lady Babbie ” stood before 
them. In her hands and her sunny hair were the 
red rowan berries, and she did to the life the quaint 
bird-like poise of the head, the shy, mocking smile 
and the wistfully sweet tones. 

The spectators greeted a bright-eyed Junior with 
a shower of applause when she stumbled upon the 
stage as the inevitable Sis Hopkins. The queer, 
bobbing braids, the faded outgrown dress, the un- 
couth shoes and patched stockings were all there, 
and even Sis’ homely philosophy, “ There ain’t no 
use doin’ nothin’ fer nobody w’at won’t do nothin’ 
fer you.” 

Then appeared a stately Senior as the “ Chorus 
Lady,” when she sweeps into the dressing-room, 
and exhibits all her wonderful bargains to the open- 
mouthed chorus girls. The audience showed their 
love for cheery, slangy, big-hearted Patricia O’Brien 
by their showers of hand-claps, and they clapped 


THE ACTRESS* PARTY 


141 


again when she unpinned her veil from her hat and 
demanded fervently, “ < Say, are you pipin’ me veil ? 
Ain’t it a Susie Smitherin? I don’t think this 
green’s at all loud, do you? I struck a clearin’ sale 
of furs to-day. Look at ’em — cravat an’ cushion- 
muff four ninety-six. Best Adirondacks sable. 
Talkin’ of sales, girls,’ ” she went on, “ ‘ ain’t that 
a peach coat, though? Two sixty-eight, silk-lined. 
Feel that linin’.’ ” Then she proudly displayed her 
hat. “ ‘ It’s a swell lid. I blew myself there — 
two ninety-eight, imported model. They wanted to 
put a bunch of peacock feathers on the side, but I’m 
that superstitious! Besides, what’s the use of trim- 
min’ when I have a veil? 

Virginia Adams won their hearts with her 
“ Merely Mary Ann.” When the curtains parted 
there she was dusting vigorously the musician’s 
room, her red, work-hardened hand in a huge glove 
in obedience to his command. Her humble “ yez, 
zir, no, zir,” and her shuffling, hurrying, awkwardly 
graceful walk made them shriek with delight. 

Hamlet in black velvet doublet and silken hose, 
sword clanking at his side, was there in all his 
melancholy. The last words of his soliloquy had 
hardly died away when one of the Moore twins was 
heard to exclaim, “ The immortal Sarah wasn’t 


142 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


half as good. I saw her two years ago, and her 
acting wasn’t a circumstance to our Hamlet’s.” 

And My-tyl and Tyl-tyl came to the party, Tyl- 
tyl in scarlet knickerbockers, blue jacket, white 
stockings and tan shoes, My-tyl in the prettiest Red 
Riding Hood outfit, and Tyltyl climbed on a chair 
in a very realistic fashion, and took down a cage, 
with the words, “ 4 My-tyl, do you see the bird ? 
He’s not quite blue yet, but that will come, you shall 
see!”’ 

Alma was a very appealing “ Ophelia ” to behold 
in her clinging gown of white, her shining mantle 
of hair, unbound, disheveled, decked with flowers 
and straws, and her big black eyes quite wild. The 
little audience listened breathlessly as she began in 
her wonderful flute-like voice, “ ‘ There’s rosemary 
— that’s for remembrance; pray, love, remember; 
and there’s pansies, that’s for thoughts,’ ” but when 
she crooned to herself with a heart-breaking sweet- 
ness the little song, “ And will he not come again ? ” 
tears stole unnoticed down the girls’ cheeks. 

“ Peter Pan,” the lovely, woodsy sprite with the 
wonderful, alluring ways, and the winged cap and 
wood-wind lute came next to charm them, and then 
the “ Piper ” and several more old favorites. The 
party closed with “ Glad.” When they saw her, 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 


143 


her small head covered with a shock of brilliant 
red hair, her deep-set black eyes shining with a 
happiness which took no account of her tatters and 
rags and the miserable little garret which was her 
home, they could scarcely believe it was Mattie Rob- 
bins — she filled the role so completely. Spell- 
bound, they heard her story. “ ‘ ’Ow did I come 
’ere ? I dunno. I was ’ere first thing I remember. 
I lived with an old woman in another ’ouse in the 
court. One mornin’ when I woke up she was dead. 
Sometimes I’ve begged an’ sold matches. Some- 
times I’ve took care of women’s children or ’elped 
’em when they ’ad to lie up. I ? ve seen a lot — but 
I like to see a lot. ’Ope I’ll see a lot more afore 
I’m done. I’m used to bein’ ’ungry an’ cold, an’ 
all that, but — but I allers likes to see what’s cornin’ 
to-morrer. There’s allers somethin’ else to-mor- 
rer.’ ” 

Another round of songs and a half dozen gay 
waltzes and two-steps brought the frolic to an end. 

Alma had just stumbled wearily into her sitting- 
room when there came a light tap at the door. 
Drusilla Evans, her hair floating about her shoul- 
ders like a child’s, in a nightgown with a kimono 
thrown over it, was standing in the hall. 

“ O Alma,” she cried ecstatically as the sleepy 


144 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Ophelia ” appeared in the doorway, “ I’ve been 
waiting just hours and hours to see you. I couldn’t 
go to sleep till I tell you. I got my money back. 
It came this afternoon in an envelope with the tail- 
or’s bill — not my pocketbook, though, and I’m 
dreadfully sorry about that. Mother gave it to 
me last Christmas — and there was the funniest 
little note inside, funny writing and spelling, and it 
said the person who found the money made up his 
mind to send it back, and I’m so happy I’d like to 
— kiss you,” she wound up with a sudden boldness. 

Alma laughed a low, sweet laugh, and kissed Dru- 
silla promptly. She stood looking after her little 
hurrying form for a moment, too absorbed in pleas- 
ant thoughts to see the Sorority President just a 
few feet away. “ I was coming past your room, 
Alma,” she began quietly, “ I intended to drop in 
for a second to tell you I’m sorry I spoke to you 
so sharply this afternoon about your pin. You’ve 
been a perfect brick to-night, and I appreciate how 
hard you’ve worked to make every one have a 
good time, and the whole thing a success.” 

Alma put out her hand, and the Senior seized 
it, and drew her close so their eyes were on a level. 
As if completely satisfied with what she read there, 
she crushed the other’s shoulders in a sudden hug. 


THE ACTRESS’ PARTY 


145 


“ You’re better than a brick, Alma Peabody. You’re 
a dandy girl. I understand perfectly now — about 
your pin and Drusilla’s money.” 

Alone in her room again, Alma was just smiling 
at the starry-eyed young person in the mirror, when 
a sleepy voice called out from the bed-room, 
“ What’s all this fuss about? If you needed money, 
why didn’t you come to me? I’ve oodles of it, and 
— I’d like to help somebody, too, for a change.” 

Alma laughed happily. “ Go to sleep. It’s 
shockingly late.” To herself she added, “ Good for 
you, Harriet. You’re beginning to learn Hadley 
Hall ways.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE LIEDERSINGER 

“ I’ve a glorious idea,” declared Dorothy, as she 
and Alma raced downstairs, skates jangling over 
their arms, one wintry November afternoon. “ It 
just came to me as I passed Miss Randolph’s door.” 
Her brown eyes were sparkling, and a deep pink 
colored either cheek. 

“ I knew Miss Randolph had something to do 
with it,” laughed Alma, throwing the cord of her 
muff over her neck as she ran. “ The size of your 
* case ’ on Miss Randolph is truly amazing, but — ” 

“ But,” put in Dorothy with a merry little 
chuckle, “ it’s a widespread disease, and you can’t 
deny you’re suffering from it almost as much as I.” 

“ Yes, indeedy, I am,” confessed Alma, “ and I 
do believe every girl in Hadley loves Miss Randolph 
— except Harriet — and I sometimes think way 
down in the bottom of her heart she likes her but 
is too stubborn to admit it.” 

“ Oh — Harriet,” Dorothy’s small nose wrinkled 
in scorn. “ She has such a wee bit of a heart it 
146 


THE LIEDERSINGER 


147 


couldn’t hold a liking for any one but herself — 
unless it’s you,” she added after a moment’s reflec- 
tion. “ I sometimes think I detect signs of her 
liking you.” 

“ W-well,” began Alma slowly, “ I don’t know 
that she likes me, but it certainly was kind of her 
to stay away from that last Symphony concert to 
read my History lesson to me the night I couldn’t 
use my eyes. And the other afternoon she insisted 
on running down to the post-box in all that rain 
to mail a letter for me.” 

“ Don’t let’s talk any more about Harriet,” Doro- 
thy shrugged her shoulders expressively, “ the very 
thought of her puts me in a bad temper, 'and it’s 
too heavenly an afternoon to spoil.” 

“But what’s your ‘glorious idea?’” queried 
Alma, eager to change the subject. She was trying 
hard not to listen to the little inner voice which 
insisted on telling her that so far her efforts to 
make the other girls accept her room-mate were a 
failure. “ But I won’t give up yet,” she told her- 
self firmly, “ I’m bound to prove Harriet didn’t 
do it.” 

She came back to her surroundings with a start 
when her companion caught her arm. “ Let’s put 
on our skates here and skate over to where the other 


148 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


girls are. That’ll give me plenty of time to tell you 
about my plan.” 

Within two minutes they were speeding over the 
ice toward the farther edge of the pond where Miss 
Hill was teaching some of the new girls the vig- 
orous open-air pastime. Some of the older girls 
were there, too, gracefully gliding in and out, and 
the ice flashed with their sharp steel skates and the 
clear, cold air rang with their laughter. 

“ It’s this,” began Dorothy briskly, as she and 
her chum swept along hand-in-hand. “ You know 
there’s going to be a fine concert Thanksgiving 
afternoon — that famous Liedersinger, Frau von 
Wildenbruch, is to be in the city — and I’m just 
wild to hear her, and I know you’ll be too, and I 
thought we could ask Miss Randolph to be our 
chaperone. She’s going to stay here over Thanks- 
giving vacation, and it’ll be lonely for her with all 
the teachers and girls away.” 

Alma drew a deep breath before she exclaimed, 
“ Oh, Dee, I’m so glad you’re going to stay after 
all. I thought there’d just be Harriet, and those 
two little Freshmen from Montana, — Emmy and 
Lucy Wicks, I mean, — and I’d made up my mind 
I would die of lonesomeness till you all got back.” 

“ Well, you won’t if I have anything to say about 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


149 


it,” Dorothy gave her friend’s fingers a bearish 
squeeze, “ but you haven’t told me what you think 
of my plan,” with a little dash of impatience. 

“ I just love it,” Alma exclaimed enthusiastically, 
“ but — but — I didn’t think you’d care — I’ve 
already invited Fraulein Forster. Besides,” she 
added half-apologetically, “ I overheard Miss Ran- 
dolph say at the breakfast-table she had just ac- 
cepted Robin Redbreast’s invitation for Thanksgiv- 
ing vacation.” 

“Fraulein Forster!” In her amazement Doro- 
thy dropped her companion’s arm and stopped short, 
balancing herself skilfully on the sharp steel blades. 
“ Why, what under the canopy do you mean, Alma 
Peabody? I thought you didn’t like Fraulein.” 

“ I didn’t know her before,” protested the black- 
eyed girl warmly. “ She always scares me into pink 
fits — that is, she did until this morning,” she cor- 
rected herself. “ I’ll have to talk fast, there come 
the Moore twins our way, and my eyes, if that isn’t 
Harriet that Miss Hill is trying to teach! Poor 
Harriet, she’s learning to skate just to please me.” 

“ Oh, bother Harriet,” exploded Dorothy. 
“ Your wits are wool-gathering this afternoon. 
What about Fraulein?” 

The wind had whipped the scarlet into Alma’s 


150 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


cheeks, and her eyes were big and bright and soft 
with sympathy as she told her story while they sped 
along. “ I went into Fraulein’s room before lunch 
to ask her for some help with Monday’s Prose. 
She didn’t hear me come in. She had her head 
down on her arms, and she was crying like a baby. 
I was just going away when she looked up and saw 
me. She gave me the help I wanted, then I don’t 
know what made me do it, but I put my hand on 
hers, and she began to cry again, and before I knew 
it she was telling me of a letter that had just come 
to her from her home in Germany. Fraulein has 
ever so many sisters and brothers, and they’re all 
so fond of one another, and they have just the hap- 
piest time together, and she’s the only one away, 
and her baby sister Frieda’s been ever so ill, and 
now she’s better, and she keeps asking and asking 
when Fraulein’s coming back, and poor Fraulein 
Forster’s heart’s about broken.” Alma paused to 
draw breath. “ And we had a wonderful time to- 
gether,” she went on in her rich, deep voice, “ and 
she told me ever and ever so many interesting things 
about Munchen, where her family lives, and then 
she told me of this wonderful German singer who’s 
to be in the city Thanksgiving Day and — and I 
asked Fraulein to take you and me. Will you go? ” 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


151 


Before Dorothy could do more than nod her con- 
sent, the Moore twins had swooped down upon 
them, and the next minute having effected a change 
of partners, the quartet were skimming lightly, 
gracefully over the smooth ice. 

The thought of the Thanksgiving afternoon con- 
cert and the pleasure she anticipated in hearing the 
much-heralded Liedersinger kept Alma cheerful 
during the next few days. She had been bitterly 
disappointed when her father’s plan to spend 
Thanksgiving Day with her in Chicago had mis- 
carried. But the world took on a rosier hue when 
close on the heels of this disappointment came a 
letter to Dorothy announcing the sudden determi- 
nation of the Hall family to winter in Switzerland, 
and leave her at Hadley over the holidays. 

It was a rather solemn-eyed little party that gath- 
ered about the crackling grate-fire in the library 
after the last carriage-load of girls had driven off. 
But presently Alma recovered her high spirits, and 
almost before they realized it, she had chased their 
gloom away with her clever imitations. Even the 
Fraulein, who seemed on the verge of tears, laughed 
aloud when the young girl stepped up to the daven- 
port, where she sat in a most woebegone fashion, 
and saluted her in the manner of a German soldier. 


152 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Raising her hand to her head, she stopped short, 
clicked her heels together sharply, bent in a stiff, 
wooden fashion from the waist, and growled out 
in a deep guttural in Vienna dialect, “ Hab die Ehre, 
gnadiges Fraulein. Russ’ die Hand, gnadiges 
Fraulein. Schon Dank.” 

She had just succeeded in reducing her small 
audience to a state of abject mirth by her droll 
mimicry of a London cabby, when the dinner-bell 
rang. As the Fraulein took her place at the small 
round table which bore a very festive air, she looked 
smilingly into the bright faces of her five charges, 
and declared, “ It iss Fraulein Alma we haf to thank 
for our laughs. She vill make us haf a fine holiday 
to-morrow.” 

Thanksgiving Day presented itself in its most 
ideal form. It was sharp, clear, and the air had 
a sparkle in it that made the blood thrill in one’s 
veins. Alma and Dorothy, with the Wicks sisters, 
spent a happy morning on the ice, and even the 
Fraulein, muffled to her ears in furs, laughed at 
their gay nonsense and bright sallies, applauded 
some unusually skilful bit of ice manoeuvre, and 
acted as referee when they wound up the morning’s 
sport by races of various kinds. 

“ Harriet, you missed heaps of fun,” cried Alma 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


153 


gaily, as she peeped into the music-room. She stood 
for an instant in the doorway, and was a delight 
to behold in her scarlet skating costume, which 
matched the color in her cheeks. A few locks of 
black hair had escaped from under her close-fitting 
hat, and her eyes, beneath their fine, expressive 
brows, shone bright as stars. “ There’s nothing like 
these,” she jingled her skates, “ to make you hungry 
as an Indian.” 

Harriet did not answer. She was drooping for- 
ward from a low, easy chair, her violin across her 
knees. Something in her pale face and dejected 
attitude stirred Alma to sympathy. “ What’s the 
matter, Harry ? ” she asked, advancing a step or 
two into the room. “ You’ve probably practised 
yourself tired and headachy. Why don’t you put 
on your things, and walk for a few minutes? You’ll 
have plenty of time before dinner.” 

Harriet shook her head miserably. “ I don’t 
want to go — alone. I don’t want to do anything 
— alone/’ Then the tears came. Alma waited 
with unusual patience. The vigorous out-door ex- 
ercise, the brilliant sunlight, the rapture of being 
alive on such a wonderful day, and, above all, the 
pleasure in store for her that afternoon, made her 
feel at peace with the world. 


154 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ I’ll be here all alone this whole afternoon,” 
wailed Harriet. “ The Wicks girls have some 
friends in the city. They just telephoned they're 
going to come for them in their machine, and I just 
wish — I was dead. Nobody cares anything about 
me. Nobody likes me.” She swallowed hard. “ I 
never realized it before I came here.” Tears 
streamed down her face. “ At home I was some- 
body, and the girls and everybody just fell all over 
themselves to do things for me, but, I guess it was 
just on account of my money. Nobody cares a 
straw whether I live or die here.” Her thin frame 
shook with sobs, and the violence of her emotion 
turned her usually sallow face a dull red. 

“ Why, that isn’t true,” sputtered Alma indig- 
nantly. “ I care, and Miss Wright cares — and 
your guardian — and — Miss Randolph,” her 
strong intuitive conviction prompted her to 
add. 

“ Miss Randolph ! ” Harriet raised a tearful face 
full of disbelief. “ Why, she h-hates m-me.” 

“ Indeed she doesn’t. It’s you that won’t let 
her like you. And I’m positive the other girls’d 
like you if you’d give them a chance to know 
you.” 

“ They all think I took those horrid Latin pa- 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


155 


pers,” she was crying more softly now in her hand- 
kerchief. “ Oh, how I wish my guardian would 
let me leave this mean old school ! ” 

“ Oh fudge, Harriet,” Alma burst out energet- 
ically. “ That would simply convince everybody 
you had taken them. You’ve just got to brace up 
and show that you’re too nice a girl to do anything 
so dreadful, and you just see, something will turn 
up before the year’s over, to prove you didn’t do 
it,” she prophesied with a confidence that was very 
reassuring. 

“ Oh, how I hope it will ! ” Harriet clasped her 
hands tragically, then she reverted again to her 
more immediate sorrow. “ I’ll die, I know I shall, 
all alone this afternoon in this great, big, awful old 
school.” 

Alma’s eyes filled with tears. Experience had 
taught her the feeling of loneliness and utter deso- 
lation. How her heart ached even now as memories 
of that unhappy time crowded thick and fast upon 
her ! The contrast between the past, when she had 
actually starved for affection and some one to love 
and the glowing present filled to the overflowing 
with sunshine, love and contentment swept over 
her, and in a rush of tenderness she put an arm 
about Harriet. 


156 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ You poor childie! I know how to sympathize 
with you. I’ve felt that way hundreds of times on 
some holiday when I was the only one in that big 
hotel who wasn’t having a good time. But you’re 
not going to stay here all by yourself. I thought 
you and the Wicks girls would probably celebrate 
some way together this afternoon. You’re coming 
to the concert.” 

“ O you duck ! ” Harriet’s blue eyes, tear-bright, 
fairly sparkled. “ I’m just dippy to go. I’m going 
to lay out my clothes this very minute. And I must 
order some flowers to wear,” she babbled, “ I’ll 
order some for you, too. Where are we going to 
sit? Right down in front, I hope. I love to sweep 
down the whole length of a theater or concert-hall. 
Besides, there’s going to be a fine violinist, and I 
do want to watch his bowing.” Suddenly t{ie ani- 
mation faded out of her face. “ Will Dorothy 
care?” she asked, nervously twisting her handker- 
chief. “ Perhaps she won’t let me go.” 

“ I think I can fix it up with Dee,” Alma began 
a little uncomfortably. “ What’s fussing me is to 
get the extra ticket. I’ll go this minute and ask 
Fraulein to telephone.” 

Of course Dorothy would bitterly resent this ad- 
dition to their small concert-party. Perhaps she 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


157 


would even refuse to go, for Dorothy, who was 
usually so amiable, had of late given up trying to 
conceal her dislike for Harriet. Perhaps it would 
be impossible to secure another ticket. What should 
she do then? All this passed through Alma’s mind 
in the minute it took her to reach Fraulein Forster’s 
room. 

To her relief the chaperone was able to arrange 
the tickets satisfactorily, and Dorothy, after her 
first explosion, proved perfectly reasonable. “ I 
won’t enjoy the concert half as much,” she said 
frankly when she had heard her friend to the end, 
“ for I always feel like humping my back and 
scratching when Miss Fogg’s Ferry is anywhere 
about, but honestly, I don’t see how you could have 
done any different. After all, it wouldn’t have 
seemed just right to go off and leave her stark alone. 
I hope, though,” she ended with a dubious shake 
of her sunny head, “ she won’t disgrace us by wear- 
ing her swaggerest do-dads.” 

“ Poor Harriet,” Alma sighed a little as she lay 
back luxuriously among Dorothy’s sofa-cushions. 
“ I can feel for her. My clothes certainly were 
frights when I first came to Hadley. You see, I 
wasn’t on an allowance then, and I used to buy 
whatever was fashionable, without ever thinking if 


158 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


it was becoming or suitable. But Cordelia and you, 
Dee,” she added with a pretty seriousness, “ taught 
me better. And I’m sure Harriet’ll learn, too.” 

Several hours after this, when Dorothy tripped 
into the room across the corridor, she found Alma 
tapping impatiently on the window-pane. Like 
Dorothy, she was dressed from head to foot in furs, 
for they had arranged to motor to the city, and her 
muff lay beside her on the window-seat. 

“ Ready? ” sang out Dorothy from the doorway. 
The other girl answered with some warmth, “ Lve 
been ready for the last half-hour. But Harriet’s 
prinking. I begged her to leave the mirror when 
she goes.” 

At that instant Harriet made a triumphal entry 
from the bed-room. Solomon in all his* glory might 
have envied her the gorgeousness of her costume. 
She wore a white lace, silver-spangled gown dashed 
with knots of cerise, on her sand-colored head a 
large pale-blue picture hat, at her belt a whole arm- 
ful of violets, sweet peas and pink roses, while over 
her arm she carried a carriage-wrap of dark-blue 
satin edged in muffloon. . Alma looked at her in 
blank amazement, but Dorothy stared her dis- 
gust. 

“ Will you help me into my coat?” asked this 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


159 


bewildering apparition sweetly of her room-mate, 
at the same time acknowledging Dorothy’s presence 
with an unsmiling little nod. 

“ Mercy me, Harriet, you better take your fur 
coat,” Alma brought herself to say ; “ you’ll freeze 
in this thin thing.” 

“ It’s plenty warm,” demurred Harriet a trifle 
crossly. “ I’ve gone autoing in it before. Come 
on, we’ll be late,” and she swept on grandly before 
them to the lower hall where their chaperone was 
waiting. 

Alma and Dorothy enjoyed every minute of the 
exhilarating ride through the keen air in the taxi- 
cab that had come for them, and chattered like 
magpies to each other and Fraulein. Several times 
Alma tried to include Harriet in her bubbling de- 
light, but that young person sat silent in her cor- 
ner, shivering and blue from the cold. For two 
at least of the party the fine, smooth road between 
Hadley and the city had never seemed so short, and 
in an incredibly brief time they found themselves 
in the already crowded concert-hall. Then, almost 
before Alma could realize it, a hush had fallen upon 
that vast audience, and she was listening to a voice 
of rare sweetness and power. Presently, as the 
golden notes rose, fell and rose again, soaring like 


160 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


a skylark’s, the young girl’s heart sang, too. The 
voice and the song lifted her out of her surround- 
ings, and raised her up, up to a mountain-top where 
she could almost touch, so it seemed, the white 
clouds sailing over the sky, and where she could see 
the marvelous beauty of blue waters, and hills 
bathed in sunlight, and wander at will in a country 
of dreams. Then a wonderful thing seemed to 
happen in that country of dreams. The exquisite 
song was gushing forth not from Frau von Wilden- 
bruch’s throat, but from her own. It was not the 
famous Liedersinger who was filling the breasts of 
her hearers with ecstasy, but it was she, Alma Pea- 
body, and her whole being thrilled and glowed and 
rose to new heights in a glorious outpouring of 
song. The dream lasted till she was out in the street, 
fast graying in the twilight. Like a sleeper just 
roused from a deep sleep she heard the others about 
her exclaim at the richness and beauty of the Lie- 
dersinger’s voice, and the simplicity of her art. On 
all sides she heard scraps of praise and admiration, 
but in reality she was listening to the tiny voice 
within her, which foretold that one day it would 
be granted her to make her hearers thrill and laugh 
and weep. 

She was hardly conscious of where she was or 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


161 


in what direction they were going, until she heard 
Harriet’s plaintive voice close behind her. “ I’m so 
hungry, Fraulein, can’t we go somewhere and have 
something to eat ? ” 

Before Fraulein Forster could find her tongue, 
Alma had whirled about, and seized her hand. 
“ Let’s go to that funny little Kaffee-Klatsch place 
you told me about. It’ll be just the nicest way to 
finish up this wonderful, wonderful afternoon.” 

The Fraulein hesitated a bare instant, then the 
girl’s pleading voice, and the eager petitions of her 
other two protegees overcame her scruples. “ We 
shall for Abendbrot a little late be,” she said in her 
quaintly pretty English, “ but perhaps for to-day 
that vill not so much difference make.” 

Alma owned to a keen sense of disappointment 
when, after a short walk, the Fraulein, who was in 
the lead with Dorothy, paused before a dingy, dark 
little one-storied building. On the front window 
was painted in curious white lettering, “ Condi- 
torei,” and above the narrow little door swung a 
gilt sign bearing the name “ Frau Anna Dorf.” 
But all disappointment cleared away like a rpist 
when the young girl stepped across the threshold. 
Quite unconsciously she clapped her hands, and ex- 
claimed in delight, “ Oh, oh, Fraulein, it’s just like 


162 ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


a little German coffee-house father and I were in 
one day last summer in Frankfort. Isn’t it per- 
fectly dear? ” 

For a few minutes the little party were all eyes, 
and then, when they had admired to their complete 
satisfaction the wonderful old German prints and 
mottoes on the walls, and the quaint, carved black 
chairs and table, they ranged themselves before a 
huge glass-encased counter where Fraulein with an 
expansive smile named and explained the wonderful 
dainties therein reposing. In bewilderment the girls 
gazed, and feasted their eyes on huge iced, cherry- 
trimmed, four-storied wedding-cakes with bride and 
groom perched solemnly on top, and toothsome 
Mandeltorten and Brottorten and wonderful 
frosted Schnecken, Stollen and cream-filled Horn- 
chen, Pfefferniisse, and crown of it all, Marzipan 
in all conceivable shapes and forms. There were 
Marzipan eggs, Marzipan sausage, Marzipan fruit, 
Marzipan vegetables, even Marzipan “ Teddy- 
bears ” in deference to American fancy. When 
each girl had made her choice, while patient, rosy- 
cheeked, white-haired Frau Dorf looked on, cheered 
and counseled, they retreated to a table, and when 
great steaming pots of coffee, jugs with German 
mottoes, filled to the brim with rich yellow cream, 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


163 


and the ordered dainties had been placed before 
them, they fell to with the appetite of hungry 
girls. 

“ Isn’t it heavenly to have the whole shop to our- 
selves ! ” sighed Dorothy, sinking her white teeth 
daintily into a Marzipan strawberry. “ I should 
think the whole town would just flock here. I know 
I’d camp here pretty much all the time.” 

“ Frau Dorf’s Kaffee-haus iss — vat you say? — 
very popular,” explained Fraulein between ecstatic 
sips of the rich brown fluid, “ but it iss a little late 
for the real German Kaffee-drinkers. They have 
all home — ” 

She stopped short as the door-latch rattled, and 
a tall couple wrapped in furs hurried in. 

“ Frau von Wildenbruch,” gasped Alma in an 
awestruck tone, and almost held her breath in the 
fervent wish that her divinity would choose a table 
close to their own. 

Frau von Wildenbruch must have felt the draw- 
ing power of those great black eyes, for she stood 
still just an instant near the door, then walked with 
an irresistible grace of motion and bearing to the 
table directly in front of the one Fraulein’s party 
was occupying. Her companion, a tall blond man 
with huge curling yellow mustaches and kindly blue 


164 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


eyes, helped the Liedersinger remove her fur coat, 
and then they began to converse in low tones. 

“ Her Mann,” the chaperone volunteered the ex- 
planation in a whisper. “ This iss their first trip 
to Amerika, and they have their baby brought along, 
too.” 

“ Wouldn’t you just love to know her? ” Dorothy 
asked her friend in a low voice. “ She is just like 
a person in a story-book, she’s so lovely to look at, 
and she has such a beautiful voice — and that hand- 
some husband, and a baby, too.” She brought out 
the last possession with such a dramatic climax that 
Alma, who was unconsciously devouring with her 
eyes the Liedersinger’s face, laughed a gay little 
trilling laugh. 

At the sound Frau von Wildenbruch raised her 
eyes to the girl’s, and nodded with a sweet gra- 
ciousness. The color flamed into Alma’s cheeks, 
and she glowed with happiness as she returned smile 
for smile. Then all too soon the tall couple rose, 
slipped into their furs, and while the husband paid 
Frau Dorf and exchanged a word or two in their 
mother-tongue, the lady turned once more, and 
bowed in the friendliest manner to Fraulein’s little 
party. Alma fancied her gaze rested on her just 
a moment longer than on any one else. She drew 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


165 


a long, long breath when the door had closed upon 
them. “ Oh,” she began slowly, as if speaking 
her thoughts aloud, “ I’d be in the seventh heaven 
if something would happen so I could see her 
again.” 

The words were hardly out of her mouth when 
the something did happen. With a bound which 
almost swept the dishes off the table she was on 
her feet, and at the recently vacated table. “ She 
left this,” she exclaimed excitedly, and exhibited 
a small brown crocheted hand-bag. In an excite- 
ment which matched hers, Dorothy flew to the door. 
“ They’re in that taxicab. Look, look ! How can 
we stop them! There, they’ve driven away.” 

It required both patience and some explanation 
on Dorothy’s and Alma’s parts to induce cautious, 
slow-moving, slow-thinking Fraulein to settle her 
bill, and follow up the fast-vanishing taxicab in 
another cab. 

“ Oh, if Fraulein would only hurry for once,” 
scowled Alma. “ It’s so nearly dark now I don’t 
believe we’ll be able to follow.” 

“ They’ve probably gone to their hotel,” put in 
Harriet, whose sallow cheeks had taken on a pretty 
color from her unusual interest in what was going 
on about her. “ You see, Frau von Wildenbruch 


166 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


gives another concert to-night, and she certainly 
will want to rest up.” 

Her suggestion proved to be correct. Some fif- 
teen minutes later they had sent up Fraulein Fors- 
ter’s card to the Liedersinger’s suite, and were com- 
fortably settled in the hotel parlor, when Herr von 
Wildenbruch appeared “ to give himself the pleas- 
ure of escorting the ladies to his Frau’s apart- 
ments.” 

Delicious tremors ran up and down Alma’s spine 
as she entered Frau von Wildenbruch’s sitting- 
room. For her the room contained only a great, 
shiny grand piano with a jar of American beauty 
roses on the floor beside it, until a door opened and 
she found herself looking into the Liedersinger’s 
deep blue eyes. Smiling shyly, Alma held out the 
brown crocheted bag. Frau von Wildenbruch 
seized it with an eager cry. “ Karl, Karl,” she 
cried in a voice that was like a flute obligato, turning 
to her husband. “ See, see, my little bag she has 
found, this young girl I saw in the Kaffee-Haus, 
the little bag my mother made for me when I was 
but only a child, the bag I carry everywhere for 
my talisman.” She spoke the language correctly, 
but with a delicious accent which made it seem 
sweet as music. 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


167 


“ My dear,” she laid an arm with a maternal 
gesture about the girl's shoulders. “ I cannot thank 
you enough. If I had lost that bag, I could not 
sing to-night or again until it was found. How 
shall I show you my gratitude ? ” Her eyes ranged 
the room. The next instant she had filled Alma’s 
arms with the long trailing stems of the roses, then 
with an instinctive grace included the others in her 
generosity. One rose she selected to pin on Alma’s 
coat, and to secure it unfastened a small bar of gold 
from the laces on her breast, and slipped it over the 
slender green stem. 

“ Oh, I — can’t take — that,” stammered Alma, 
the color mounting to the tips of her ears. “ It’s 
too much. I don’t deserve it, but I shall prize it 
all my life long,” she added in a tone quivering with 
intensity. 

Frau von Wildenbruch laughed. “ You shall 
keep it,” she declared gaily, “ and you shall sing 
for me, too.” 

Alma looked open amazement, but the singer 
went on, “ You are asking yourself how I know. 
With such a throat — such a chest and such a sing- 
ing voice when you speak. Ach, Kindchen, you 
have the eyes, the nature, the suffering-all to make 
a singer. See, I shall play for you, what shall it 


168 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


be ? ” As she spoke she seated herself at the piano, 
and her white fingers rippled over the keys. 
“ Something very simple, very easy, nicht wahr ? ” 

For a minute the room swam before the girl’s 
eyes. She turned imploringly toward Dorothy, 
who was sitting on the huge davenport beside Herr 
von Wildenbruch. Dorothy nodded brightly, and 
her lips just formed the word “ Courage.” 

“ What shall it be?” repeated the singer dream- 
ily, and the girl, taking herself desperately in hand, 
named a simple little Scotch ballad, her father’s 
favorite. A trembling fit seized her when she began 
to sing, and at first her voice quavered perceptibly, 
but under the quietening influence of the Lieder- 
singer’s approving smile, and the exquisite accom- 
paniment that was flowing from her fingers, Alma 
lost all thought of herself and her surroundings. 
She threw herself heart and soul into the pathetic 
little song, and unconsciously the Liedersinger 
nodded as the clear young voice rang out. When 
the last note had died away, Frau von Wildenbruch 
paid her the tribute of a shining tear. 

“You are a child of the gods!” she seized the 
girl’s shoulders with both her fine, expressive hands. 
“ You have the gift. I shall not lose sight of you. 
You shall write me letters, and some day, perhaps 


THE LIEDERSIN GER 


169 


next summer-time, you shall visit me at Wilden- 
bruch, shall she not, lieber Karl? ” 

Alma thanked her with all the fervor of her 
nature, then the singer said with a laugh of true 
happiness, “ You shall see our own little Lieder- 
singer. Already she has a voice,” and ran into the 
adjoining room. She was back in a moment, with 
a smaller counterpart of herself in a nurse’s arms. 

“ Our little one,” she said proudly, taking the 
baby, and holding the tiny face against her own, 
“ our little Ernestina.” 

All too soon for Alma, at least, the interesting 
visit came to an end. When Fraulein Forster had 
marshaled her charges back into the taxicab, and 
they were being whirled through the frosty night- 
air in the direction of Hadley Hall, it was Dorothy 
who broke the little hush that had fallen upon them. 

“ I hope I’ll be just like Frau von Wildenbruch 
when I grow up,” she remarked fervently, and 
Alma, burying her face deep in her armful of roses, 
silently echoed the wish. 

Her thoughts were all engrossing, and she did not 
speak until the machine drew up before the school. 
Then half-aloud she said, “ It’s all been so perfectly 
wonderful! I’ll never forget this Thanksgiving 
Day if I live to be a hundred and one years old.” 


CHAPTER IX 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 

“ The Wicks girls are back from their motoring 
trip,” announced Dorothy, dancing down the corri- 
dor in the highest of spirits. “ There’s a light in 
their room. Let’s amble in, and hear what they’ve 
been doing to celebrate Thanksgiving afternoon.” 

“ All right,” agreed Alma after a moment’s hesi- 
tation. She would have preferred to spend the eve- 
ning quietly in her own room, living over the ex- 
periences of the afternoon. “ I suppose Fraulein 
will be glad to be rid of us for a little while, so she 
can write her letters.” As she spoke she and Doro- 
thy began to beat a vigorous tattoo on the door from 
beneath which a stream of light was issuing. 

“ Come, too,” invited Alma to her room-mate, 
who hung back, a look of uncertainty in her eyes. 

“ Pd better — Harriet began hesitatingly, when 
the door was flung open, and a tall, angular, rather 
leggy young girl of fourteen years appeared in the 
doorway. She had large china-blue eyes, light- 
170 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


171 


brown hair, and a freckled face whose chief charm 
was a wide humorous mouth. “ Come on along 
in,” she invited with a decided Western drawl, 
“ Emmy and Eve just been pining for an audience, 
haven’t we, Em ? ” she appealed to her sister who 
was a smaller, paler edition of herself. 

“ Well, what in the name of all that’s wonder- 
ful,” exclaimed Dorothy, as she stared first at one 
sister and then at the other, “ are you kiddies up 
to?” 

“ We’re cow-girls,” explained Lucy Wicks in the 
most matter-of-fact tone, throwing the door open 
more widely for the three to enter. “ Just take off 
your bonnets and fixin’s and occupy the box-seats 
on the sofy, and Emmy and I’ll do a few stunts with 
our bowie-knives. That’s our target.” 

The three spectators had already been gazing 
round-eyed and open-mouthed at the impromptu 
easel in one corner of the room, on which rested an 
old wooden checker-board, with one black square 
outlined in chalk for the bull’s-eye. 

“ The Wicks sisters could do a few simple stunts 
with the lasso that would make your hair stand 
up straight,” declared Emmy with a modest air, 
“ if we only had room enough. Some time you 
hint to Miss Hill and see if we can use the gym., 


172 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


and we'll give you the best rainy-day show you’ve 
seen this side of the Rockies. Pa says — ” 

“ Now never mind about pa’s bragging,” cut in 
Lucy impatiently. “ You hike over to that corner, 
and swing your bowie-knife, my girl.” 

Meekly Emmy obeyed, and cheers and a burst of 
applause came from the three on the sofa as the 
knife went whizzing through the air, and stuck in 
the wood just a couple of inches away from the 
“ bull’s eye.” 

With a whoop and a yell like a Comanche Indian 
Lucy clanked her spurred boots across the floor, 
and swung her knife three times about her head 
before she sent it straight as a die into the very 
center of the target. 

“ That’s the first time you’ve done that to-night,” 
snapped the younger girl, “ you needn’t be so high 
and mighty,” and dashing back to the corner she 
took up her position again. 

“ Wait, wait just a jiffy,” Dorothy sprang up 
impulsively from her seat. “ Your target isn’t on 
straight.” 

Just what happened after that neither Dorothy 
nor any of the other girls could clearly explain, but 
the next instant the bowie-knife hissed through the 
air, and caught Dorothy full in the wrist. A fright- 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


173 


ened scream burst from Emmy’s lips. “ Oh, what 
have I done ? Have I killed you ? ” and she crum- 
pled to the floor in a heap. 

The blood was spurting from Dorothy’s wrist 
and as she put her uninjured hand to her head with 
a dazed gesture she was swaying dizzily. Alma was 
at her friend’s side in an instant to steady her, but 
it was Harriet who took command; a quiet, white- 
lipped, steady-voiced Harriet. 

“ Help me get her on to the sofa, Alma,” she di- 
rected. “ Lucy, let your sister alone. She’s just 
fainted. She isn’t dead. You fly to the telephone, 
and get Dr. Carpenter here on the jump. If he 
isn’t in, get somebody, anybody. Alma, reach me 
a towel and the cork out of any bottle you can find.” 
She was pressing her finger firmly against the sev- 
ered artery to stop the flow of the blood. Then with 
a surprising deftness she placed the cork above the 
wound for a pad and with the aid of the towel ar- 
ranged an improvised tourniquet. “ Quick, that 
paper-knife, I saw one on top of the desk,” she 
directed in a most business-like manner, and as 
Alma flew to do her bidding, she leaned over Doro- 
thy who lay with closed eyes and pallid lips, and 
whispered with unusual gentleness, “ You’ll be all 
right in a minute now. There,” she added with a 


174 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


triumphant air when she had twisted the knife 
around in the bandage to hold it firm. “ There, 
thank gracious, the bleeding’s stopped.” 

That night as Alma sat at the bedside of her 
chum, thinking over the exciting events of the day, 
Dorothy stirred, moved her head restlessly and 
gave a deep, deep sigh. “ Talk of heaping coals 
of fire,” she began with an unsteady little laugh, 
“ why, I guess my hair must all be burned off by 
this time. Did you hear Dr. Carpenter say it was 
lucky for me that Harriet learned first aid to the 
injured in camp last summer? And did you notice 
how she wouldn’t even let me have her gorgeous 
white lace dress cleaned even though I’d messed it 
all up with my gore? And as if that wasn’t enough, 
she must insist that she hadn’t done a thing more 
for me than I’d do for her. Oh, dear, oh, dear, I 
wouldn’t feel I was such a horrid little sinner if I 
liked her even a cent’s worth.” 

“ That’s fearful squish, Dee, as an English boy 
I met last summer used to say,” rejoined Alma with 
indignant emphasis, flinging her arm around her 
friend’s neck, and astonishing her with one of her 
rare kisses. “ Why, you can’t make yourself like 
Harriet. But I honestly think one reason you don’t 
like her is because you don’t know her. So far, 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


175 


you’ve seen only her worst side. You see,” she 
went on with a breathless earnestness, “ I under- 
stand her better than you do; she and I are alike 
in some ways. She’s had no one to love or to love 
her — she hasn’t a near relative except her guard- 
ian, you know, and he’s a sixty-third cousin of 
some sort, and she hasn’t seen him but once in 
several years. Poor girl, how I wish she had a 
father for a comrade ! ” As always at the mere 
thought of her father, Alma’s face grew radiantly 
proud, and her eyes were soft and shining. “ When 
a girl lives all by herself, Dee,” she was standing 
at the window now, gazing fixedly at the sky which 
was of a deep, cold blue with several brilliant stars 
twinkling down at her, “ she gets into all kinds of 
selfish habits, and besides being dreadfully selfish, 
Harriet’s been spoiled by everybody in Fogg’s Ferry 
because she has so much money.” She was silent 
for at least two minutes, and Dorothy waited quietly 
for her to resume her confidences. “ It’s awfully 
hard for me to say it,” came in a slightly tremulous 
voice, “ but Cordelia and you and Hadley Hall 
almost made me over, and I’m hoping to do a little 
something for Harriet, and — and I think — what 
she did to-night proved there’s a big streak of good 
in her, and it’s beginning to show. If you’d prom- 


176 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


ise to help, Dee, I’m sure we could make her ever 
so much happier. She’s really an awfully lonely 
girl.” Impulsively she darted over to Dorothy’s 
couch, and stood, a slender, graceful figure in her 
simple white linen dress, looking down with a face 
full of pleading. 

There was no sound in the little room while Doro- 
thy lay still and wrestled with herself. A lively 
color flecked her cheeks when presently she raised 
earnest eyes to Alma’s and whispered chokily, “ I 
didn’t keep my word before about starting all over 
again with her and I don’t believe I can help her any 
more than a rabbit, but — to please you, I’ll — try.” 

And with characteristic promptness she began to 
fulfill her promise that very night by sending for 
Harriet just before she went to sleep and thanking 
her again in the friendliest manner she could achieve 
for her splendid services. 

“ I was glad to do it,” Harriet said with a happy 
laugh. “ I’ve been wishing for weeks something 
would turn up so I could do something for you,” 
she added in a burst of confidence. 

“ For me ! ” Dorothy’s eyes almost popped out 
of her head. Harriet nodded. 

“ Why, I thought you perfectly detested me as 
much as — ” Dorothy flushed hotly to the tips of 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


177 


her little ears at her unusual lack of tact. “ I beg 
your pardon/’ she faltered, “ you — ” 

“ That’s all right,” broke in Harriet composedly. 
“ I know how you feel. You can’t help it, but it 
was all a bluff on my part. I liked you the first 
minute I set eyes on you up at camp; you looked 
just like a little Dresden shepherdess I have at home, 
but you wouldn’t let me be friends, so I said and 
did everything horrid I could. I’m beginning to 
see things differently now,” her tone was most mat- 
ter-of-fact, but her face quivered with sincerity. 
“ Perhaps it’s because I’ve never known really nice 
girls before like you and Alma.” She turned with 
a wistful smile toward her room-mate, who sat 
perched on the foot of Dorothy’s couch. “ I don’t 
suppose, though, you’re interested in hearing about 
my sudden reform,” she interrupted herself with 
a hard little laugh, and fairly flew from the room. 
The next moment she opened the door far enough 
to insert her head and say, “ I’ve arranged with 
Fraulein to occupy the ‘ single ’ next to her room, 
so you two can be together to-night.” 

“ Harriet, come back here,” cried both girls in 
a breath, but she was gone, and they saw no more 
of her that night. 

“ I’m beginning to think you’re right about Har- 


178 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


riet Ward,” murmured Dorothy drowsily as she 
neared the border of Sleepland ; “ anyhow, I’m 
going to try the experiment of being decent to her 
until Christmas time, and see how it works. I only 
hope — she — won’t — snow me under — with 
flowers, though.” 

But she did. With the regularity of a clock, the 
leading florist’s wagon stopped each morning at 
Hadley Hall and delivered a huge bouquet for 
Dorothy. The amount of teasing Harriet’s deep- 
dyed “ crush ” brought upon the new object of her 
devotion tried even Dorothy’s sweet-tempered soul. 

“ I always thought the weeks between Thanks- 
giving and Christmas vacation fairly scampered 
past,” confided Dorothy in the ear of her sympa- 
thizing friend as they lay upon a mattress between 
the halves of a basket-ball game one afternoon, 
“ but this year the time just seems to drag, and 
it’s all on account of that deluge of flowers. Why, 
I used to love the dears, and now, I’m all over goose- 
flesh when I see that enormous box, and know I’ll 
have to beg, borrow or steal every vase and bowl 
in the school.” 

Alma shook with mirth. “ Fancy,” she giggled, 
“ having the weeps because you’re too popular. 
Dee, you certainly are a spoiled child.” 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


179 


“ And she looks so offended if I give even one 
of them away,” Dorothy continued to pour out her 
grievances ; “ why, she almost had a fit of sulks 
because I sent the last boxful to Drusilla Evans.” 

“ Without even opening the box, though,” ob- 
jected the other. “ That was jolly rude, you know, 
Dee.” 

“ I suppose so,” sighed Dorothy, “ but that poor 
little kiddie loves flowers, and never seems to have 
any.” 

“ Something’s worrying Drusilla,” remarked 
Alma, looking up with thoughtful eyes at the sky- 
light through which the pale December sun was 
shining. “ She looks so white and worried, and 
when I asked her to take part in the circus at first 
she seemed ever so pleased, but after a minute she 
said she couldn’t take the time to get ready, as she 
had an Algebra exam, the very day of the circus, 
and she’d positively die if she didn’t get through. 
You know she’s half-killing herself to make the 
Fresh and Soph, classes this year, and she could 
do it all right if she didn’t get scared into pink fits 
and worry so.” 

“ Um,” assented Dorothy absently, but the next 
moment she burst out with unusual petulance, “ I 
do wish the Sorority had voted that we could ask 


180 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


more than one outsider to take part in the circus. 

I suppose I ought to invite Harriet, she’s been so 
‘ deluscious ’ to me, as my little cousin, Sally, al- 
ways says. It’s part of my experiment, I know, 
but Heaven protect me from the avalanche of flow- 
ers and candy that’ll come my Way ! ” 

Alma laughed unfeelingly, and’ 1 the other in spite 
of herself joined in. Whereupon both girls fell to 
discussing vigorously, until the gymnasium direct- 
or’s whistle sounded, the indoor circus* which the 
Alpha Iota Sorority had decided to give, and to 
which the whole school was to be invited. 

That very afternoon huge yellow-and-black post- 
ers were tacked up in most prominent places 
throughout the school, and crowds of girls were to 
be seen* gathered before them. There was also a 
generous distribution of hand-bills with glaring 
head-lines, announcing the coming of — 

THE GREATEST CIRCUS ON EARTH 

II Four Thousand Elephants. Seven Hundred Sea-Ser- 

pents. Five Hundred Lions. Thrilling Bareback 
Riding. Most Sensational Lion-Taming Act in 
the World. Daring High Dive. Wonderful 
Side Shows, containing the Bearded Lady, 

Giants, Midgets, Igrahim, the Seer, 
and other Marvels too numerous to 
be mentioned.” 



THAT VE-RY AFTERNOON HUGE YELLOW - AND - BLACK 
POSTERS WERE TACKED UP ” 





t 




k 














































































































































































































































THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


181 


During the days that remained before the advent 
of the Christmas holidays, the one absorbing topic 
of conversation was the circus, and the whole school 
was wholeheartedly agog with expectation. Morn- 
ing, noon and night tongues and fingers were busy, 
and weird and wonderful coverings of strange hues 
and fantastic shapes were evolved, and there was 
much slamming of doors, and many whispered dis- 
cussions, and a tantalizing air of secrecy pervading 
operations whenever any of the uninitiated chanced 
to be near. Every available leisure moment of the 
days immediately preceding the performance was 
devoted to the necessary rehearsals, and wild cries 
and strange noises, shot through with merry bursts 
of girlish laughter, made their way now and then 
from the firmly barricaded gymnasium doors. 
Those days were filled to the overflowing with hard 
work for the members of the Sorority and the fa- 
vored few who had been invited to take part in 
the circus, for each girl had bound herself by sol- 
emn promise to keep her lessons up to the standard, 
and not shirk a single duty or responsibility in her 
eager desire to make the entertainment a striking 
success. 

“ A little more of this, and I’d be a spiffen- 
spoffen bird,” announced one of the Moore twins 


182 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


the afternoon of the great day. She was balancing 
herself on one edge of Alma’s table, and her sister 
was performing a like feat on the back of a 
chair. 

“ A spiffen-spoffen bird ! What in the world is 
that ? ” asked Catherine Ball in round-eyed wonder. 
She had just burst into Alma’s room in company 
with Margarite Dunstan, and the two were now 
sprawled comfortably on the couch. Alma had 
thrown herself in a tired little heap on the window- 
seat, and was slowly recovering her breath from her 
last exciting dress-rehearsal. Drusilla Evans sat 
tucked up in a chair close beside her. 

“ Tell us about the spiffen-spoffen bird,” urged 
Margarite, but the twins sadly shook their heads. 

“ No, Rubber, no, Daisy Dunce, ’tis a long, sol- 
emn story about the spiffen-spoffen bird and one 
that would draw tears from your eyes.” Trouble 
Moore stifled some imaginary sobs. 

“ Ay, ’tis that,” confirmed Bubble, “ and a tale 
that needs howling winds and driving rains and a 
haunted house, and rattling of bones, and clanking 
of chains.” She had dropped her voice to a sepul- 
chral whisper, and in spite of herself Drusilla shud- 
dered. 

“ Don’t, Bubble,” she begged, “ you give me the 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


183 


shivers. I know I’ll never sleep a wink to-night 
with all those awful 4 beasties ’ you say are going 
to be at the circus.” 

“ They’ll make your blood run cold, and your 
hair rise on end,” declared Trouble, bent on teasing 
the younger girl. “ Better, far better, ’twould have 
been for you, Drusie, to be a ‘ beastie ’ yourself 
than be eaten by one.” 

“ But I couldn’t be one,” declared Drusilla smi- 
ling faintly as Bubble leaped from the table, and 
began to gambol about before her like a frisky lamb. 
“ I had too much studying to do. Oh, how I hope 
I passed off my Algebra,” she exclaimed half-aloud, 
clasping and unclasping her fingers in an agony of 
earnestness. 

“ Sure you did,” Alma, whose quick ears had 
caught the whisper, assured her, “ and you’re going 
to see the whole show to-night from one of the 
best seats. I got Virginia Adams to promise she’d 
reserve it for you, so come early, for I’m sure 
there’ll be a crush.” 

All Hadley Hall must have got wind of Alma’s 
injunction to come early, for long before the doors 
of the gymnasium had been thrown open or the 
ticket-taker was in her improvised ticket-office, a 
line of girls bubbling over with laughter and gay 


184 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


sallies, and strung to the highest pitch of anticipa- 
tion, had formed. 

“ O girls, it’s the real thing! ” exclaimed Joseph- 
ine Douglas, as she stood, eyes round as saucers, 
at the entrance of the tent. “ Look at all those 
side-shows,” she began to jump up and down in 
delight, “ and that’s really-truly sawdust on the 
floor, and there’s the ring in the center, and oh! 
oh ! oh ! do see those cages of animals over there ! 
Drusilla Evans, did you ever in all your life see 
anything half so beautiful, grand? ” 

But Drusilla, guarding carefully the violets she 
wore tucked in her belt, lest one blossom of Alma’s 
precious gift should be crushed, could find no words 
to express her wonderment and pleasure. Her wan 
little face wore a flush of excitement, and a happy 
light shone in her tired eyes. For the time being 
she banished all tormenting thoughts of studies and 
Algebra tests, and, with a sigh of content giving 
herself up completely to the enjoyment of the mo- 
ment, followed the others in their tour of inspec- 
tion. 

There were cages constructed of chairs so ar- 
ranged that the “ animal ” was confined within four 
walls, and covered with a “ grating ” of gay strips 
of bunting to keep the beast safely shut up. Shrieks 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


185 


of laughter escaped the spectators as they crowded 
about these cages, and poked the “ animals ” to 
make them perform, and various and ear-splitting 
were the noises that the occupants of the cages 
produced when prodded or pricked with pins or 
coaxed with peanuts. The monkey-cage in which 
the Moore twins performed various comical antics, 
proved the greatest attraction, and it was only with 
the utmost difficulty that some of the “ barkers ” 
could induce the mob to move on. 

Virginia Adams excited the wonder and envy 
of the onlookers by the splendor of her costume 
as a snake-charmer and the daring of her act with 
long, hideous, unusually natural-looking paper- 
snakes. 

For some time the “ wild man,” the giraffe, the 
fat woman, the bearded lady, game-cocks and a 
pheasant-hen with a most peculiar plumage, a burro 
which now and then tried to prove the right to the 
title of the “ Rocky Mountain Canary,” amused the 
girls with their special stunts. A huge, blinking 
owl roosting on a monster horse threw the specta- 
tors into a state of tearful mirth by its long, weird 
hoots which evoked most peculiar answering neighs 
from the proud steed. The latter, occasionally be- 
coming restive under the weight of Mrs. Owl, tried 


186 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


to cavort about. It required the combined efforts of 
two ring-masters to restrain the fiery beast. 

Then the audience were ushered to their seats 
and entertained with an up-to-date Punch-and- 
Judy show which managed to include not a few 
school-grinds to the delight of the hearers. Next 
came wonderful performing bears, whose clumsy 
dancing made the girls roll about in their seats. 
Shouts of “ Do it again, Alma and Dorothy ! 99 
rang out at the end of the act, but the bears, shaking 
their heads solemnly, walked gravely off on their 
hind legs, fore-paws intertwined. 

The girls applauded loudly when the ring-master, 
cracking his whip, darted into the center of the 
ring, and announced a most wonderful and sensa- 
tional “ high dive,” and they applauded again, even 
more vociferously this time, when Mattie Robbins 
in a trig white bathing-suit and cap stepped before 
them with an easy grace. She swung herself up 
on the rings high above the swimming-pool, and 
stood there an instant, ready for the daring plunge. 
Eyes big and round with excitement, they fairly 
held their breath when the ring-master once more 
cracked his whip and shouted “ Ready ! ” 

The next instant there was a leap, a loud splash, 
and a white-clad figure was seen in the water. Yet 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


187 


could they believe their eyes? Was that dainty, 
mischievous Mattie Robbins who slid from the rings 
and was kissing her hand to them in the center of 
the sawdust ring? It took them a full minute to 
realize the trick that had been played upon them, 
but when with another bow and wave of the hand 
she clasped in her arms the dripping figure of the 
dummy which the ring-master had fished out of the 
swimming-tank, how they laughed and shrieked and 
shouted ! 

The circus ended in a blaze of glory and a burst 
of fun when a huge and fearsome-looking monster 
fairly galloped into the midst of the ring. On its 
back it bore an enormous placard with the curious 
word “ Alphaloterosceros.” Several times it raced 
about the ring, emitting strange bellowing sounds. 
Suddenly it stopped, appeared to roll its eyes, then 
unfurling a long red tongue, began to dash wildly 
about again in all directions, throwing out into the 
audience a perfect shower of tiny dolls, dressed as 
school-girls, miniature books, slates, pencils, toy 
school-houses, small hockey-sticks, basket-balls, lit- 
tle sleds and skates. All at once this curious beast, 
not to be found in any natural history, came to a 
standstill, and proceeded to give a series of short, 
jerky bows, and somehow the placard on its back 


188 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


had become reversed. Now outlined in tiny elec- 
tric bulbs it read, “ Good Night.” 

“ It was the best ever,” chorused the girls as they 
streamed to their rooms. 

“ It was the best ever,” Harriet repeated a few 
minutes later as she slipped under the bed-covers; 
“ and everybody thinks you were a winner to think 
up that last corking stunt.” 

“ It was partly Dorothy’s idea,” murmured Alma 
drowsily, “ but it was hot work for all of us to 
race around under that beast. The six of us who 
worked the tongue — almost — smothered — to — 
death.” Her head had hardly touched the pillow 
when she was fast asleep. 

The night hours sped away noiselessly and were 
slowly giving place to the ghostly gray light of 
early morning when something startled Alma wide- 
awake. 

“ Who’s there?” she asked softly, at the same 
instant bounding out of bed. She flashed a glance 
across the room at her chum who lay in her cus- 
tomary position, face downward among the pillows. 
Harriet was breathing deeply, regularly, like one 
enjoying the boon of a sweet, sound sleep. 

“ Who is it ? ” Alma inquired again in a light 
whisper. There was no answer. She stood still 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


189 


in the middle of the floor, and listened intently. 
Once more came that light rustling of garments and 
the fumbling with the door-knob. 

It took a full minute before Alma could bring 
herself to open the door, but when she did, for one 
dreadful breathless moment she stood staring, and 
her heart seemed to stop beating. A figure all in 
white, with great blank, open eyes, and what looked 
like a white wand under one arm, confronted her. 
All in a minute the recollection of Harriet’s ghost 
rushed back to her, and she trembled violently. 
Suddenly the figure wheeled about, and with quick, 
hurrying steps hastened down the corridor. With 
a little leap of the heart Alma recognized her 
ghostly visitor. It was Drusilla Evans. She was 
walking in her sleep. Without a second of hesi- 
tation Alma sped after her, and caught up with 
her just as she reached the end of the hall where 
the coat-rack stood. Straight as an arrow Drusilla 
made for the rack, took down a coat, carefully 
placed what she carried under her arm in one 
pocket, then hung the coat up again. 

Alma watched her breathlessly, but she had a 
quick way of understanding things, and almost be- 
fore she had followed the little white figure back 
to her own room, and seen her safely stowed away 


190 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


in her bed, she had solved the mystery. Drusilla 
was given to sleep-walking when especially excited 
or nervous. She had had a Latin test the same day 
that the Sophomore class had wrestled with one. 
That night she had taken the papers from Miss 
Randolph’s desk, and put them in Harriet’s coat, 
which by chance hung on the rack. Now she had 
gone through the same performance with the Al- 
gebra papers. 

By the time she had reached this point in her 
thoughts, Alma had reached her own room, 
and only with the greatest difficulty could she 
keep from arousing her peacefully sleeping room- 
mate. 

“ I can’t wait till morning,” she told herself with 
a happy smile, “ to tell Harriet the wonderful news. 
She didn’t have a thing to do with those papers, 
and it’s going to make things a lot easier for her 
in Hadley when she comes back from the vaca- 
tion.” Then, for the first time, she allowed herself 
to dwell on what Harriet’s exoneration would mean 
for her and Dorothy. “ We can room together 
again,” she reflected gleefully. “ I’m almost sorry 
that the holidays begin to-morrow, or I would be 
if father wasn’t coming to get me to-morrow noon,” 
she corrected herself, her heart leaping for joy. 


THE INDOOR CIRCUS 


191 


“ Oh, dear, I’m so excited and weepy I sha’n’t 
sleep a wink.” 

But in less than two minutes she had reached the 
dreamful sea again. The sun was shining brilliantly 
when she opened her eyes to a December day all 
blue overhead and white underfoot. For a second 
she lay gazing dreamily at the patch of yellow sun- 
light that was slowly traveling across the floor 
toward her bed. Suddenly the exciting discovery 
she had made the preceding night flashed into her 
mind. 

“ Harriet,” she cried, sitting up and aiming a 
pillow at her room-mate. “ Harriet, wake up. I’ve 
something simply ripping to tell you. Harry, where 
are you ? ” 

Then she remembered. Her room-mate had de- 
cided to sacrifice her usual morning nap for an hour 
with her beloved violin in the music-room. Well, 
the good news would keep till breakfast. 

Alma made short work of her plunge that morn- 
ing and fairly tumbled into her clothes. She was 
still lacing up her blouse when she burst into Doro- 
thy’s room. A few minutes later, Katie coming 
round a turn in the corridor with a fresh supply of 
towels, was amazed to see a door fly open, and two 
girls shoot out. But she grinned appreciatively 


192 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


when they clasped each other by the arms, and 
waltzed down the entire length of the hall, inform- 
ing the world at large at the top of their lungs, 

“ Oh, we are jolly good fellows, 

And we’re going to room together. 

Oh, we are jolly good fellows, 

As everybody knows.” 


CHAPTER X 


sally’s milk shampoo 

But Fate was perverse, and interfered with 
Alma’s and Dorothy’s cherished plan of rooming 
together. For when at the close of the Christmas 
vacation the tide of gay young life streamed back 
to Hadley, it brought Dorothy’s little cousin, Sally 
Drew. As was its wont, Hadley Hall stood off and 
eyed the newcomer critically at first sight. But 
Sally answered each stare with a friendly smile, 
and was received into instant favor. 

She was a small, rather undersized young person 
for her twelve years, and her face with its chubby 
features, wide-open blue eyes fringed with long, 
curling black lashes and small mouth that was al- 
ways puckered up to whistle, irradiated a childlike 
trust and confidence. 

In her brief, sunny career Sally had yet learned 
to appreciate life’s irony. She had a mop of short 
black hair that would curl in spite of all her deter- 
mined efforts to spat it down after the fashion of 
193 


194 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


her six older brothers, whose alternate pet and sport 
she was. When her parents suddenly decided to 
join Dorothy’s father and mother in Switzerland, 
and place the boys in a boarding-school, and their 
only little daughter in Hadley under Dorothy’s pro- 
tecting wing, Sally discovered one drop of joy in 
her brimming cup of woe. She adored Dorothy, 
and the mere prospect of sharing the same room 
with this wonderful cousin was a delight. 

She fell promptly in love with Alma. 

“ You look real honest, just like a boy,” she told 
the older girl at first meeting. “ I think you’re nice, 
and I know the boys’d like you too.” 

Alma was quick to appreciate the compliment. 
“ glad,” she managed to say gravely, but the 
serious gaze with which the blue eyes were regard- 
ing her, made the corners of her mouth fairly 
twitch. “ You see, it would be quite dreadful if you 
didn t like me, for we’re to be very close neighbors ; 
you and Dee are to have the suite opening into 
mine.” She stifled a sigh, for it had been a very 
keen disappointment to find that after all she could 
not have Dorothy as a room-mate for the rest of 
the year. She had left school the morning the holi- 
days began, happy in the knowledge that she had 
been able to prove Harriet’s innocence, and on her 


SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


195 


return could conscientiously share her room again 
with Dorothy. She had rejoiced too at the hand- 
some amends the girls had made to Harriet, and 
the pleasure the latter took in their overtures. 
Thoughts of the change in Hadley Hall’s attitude 
toward Harriet, and her own lovely companionship 
with Dorothy had buoyed her up even in the sor- 
rowful moment of bidding good-bye to her father, 
and she had managed to make the usually tedious 
train-ride seem short and not disagreeable by her 
rosy visions of the joys in store for them both when 
they roomed together again. Now here was this 
young interloper. 

“ Girls are funny animals, my brother Tom says,” 
remarked Sally with a sage shake of her head, the 
day after her arrival. She was sitting at Alma’s 
study-table during recreation hour. Her chin was 
resting on the back of her hand, and she was staring 
with all her eyes at the girl opposite. “ I’ve met 
about a hundred of ’em to-day, and you can’t guess 
worth a cent what one of them’s like from what 
they say or just by looking at their faces. They 
all say the same, and outside they’re all alike, but 
it’s what’s inside their heads that makes them dif- 
ferent, isn’t it? ” 

She looked inquiringly at Alma, who nodded for 


196 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


reply. She was just beginning to find the young 
interloper interesting. 

“ Now, boys aren’t a bit that way,” went on the 
young philosopher. “ You’ve only to look at a boy, 
and you know him. You can tell right off if he’s 
a sneak, or a bully fellow. You see, a boy always 
says what he means, but girls don’t. I know boys 
like a book. I’ve got six of them at home, that is, 
I had,” she corrected herself with a little catch in 
her voice ; “ they had to be sent away same as I. 
We did have such jolly times,” she sighed remi- 
niscently. “ ‘ Lovey,’ that’s mother, you know, 
says about all I do know is boys, and now I’ve got 
to get acquainted with girls. I’m afraid it’s going 
to be dreadful hard to be with girls all the 
time. Girls are just — girls, but boys are so delus- 
cious.” 

“ It must be nice to have six brothers all your 
own,” observed Alma with undisguised envy. 

“Nice!” repeated Sally indignantly. “Nice! 
Why, it’s just grandiferous. How many of them 
have you got ? ” 

“ I never had a brother.” 

“ Haven’t you got even one ? ” 

She raised eyes full of incredulity, even horror, 
as she leaned across the table toward the other girl. 


SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


197 


Alma shook her head. She was all interested atten- 
tion now. 

“ My, my, my! ” Sally ejaculated in pitying tones. 

“ Then you’ve never been a princess and been car- 
ried off by a bandit-chief, and locked up in a great 
big stone castle on top of a mountain, and had lots 
and lots of brave knights try to rescue you, and win 
your hand. And I s’pose you’ve never been a lily- 
white maid, and had a band of Indians come to 
scalp you, and a brave white man rush out from 
behind the rocks — that’s usually the davenport in 
our living-room — and save you.” She wound up 
breathlessly. 

Alma admitted sadly she had been none of those 
exciting characters. 

“ And I s’pose you’ve never had to climb trees 
to get down a baby-kitten those teasing boys carried 
off,” Sally’s astonishment at the other’s inexperi- 
ence made her speak slowly, “ and you’ve never 
played marbles or gone fishing or played ball. 
Why,” she ended in a voice shrill with excitement, 
“ why, you’ve never done anything ! P’r’aps, 
though,” she added a moment later in a curious 
tone, “ you’ve had dolls.” 

Alma bowed her head in shame. She had to 
confess her guilt. 


198 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Once/’ Sally’s voice sank to a whisper, “ once 
I wanted a doll. It was years ago when I was too 
little to know better,” she hastened to explain in 
self-defense, “ so mother got me one, but the boys 
tomahawked it in one of their Indian plays, and 
I never had any more.” Alma could almost have 
sworn there was a sorrowful look in the blue 
eyes, but before she could make sure it was 
gone. 

“But aren’t brothers awful teases?” she asked. 
She confessed to herself she was having a perfectly 
gorgeous time, and no longer regarded the young 
person before her as an interloper. She was a real 
dear. 

Sally hesitated a full instant, then answered with 
defiant honesty, “ Yes, but I like it. I don’t even 
mind when they call me ‘ Sally Soapfingers ’ ’cause 
I’m always dropping things, and I’ve got used to 
having them salt my oranges, and sew up my coat- 
sleeves, and hide my hats, and sew on my shoe- 
buttons with only one thread. There’s just one 
thing I can’t stand yet, and p’r’aps that’ll be changed 
before the boys and I go back home,” she added 
with a mysterious air. 

“What’s that?” Frank curiosity showed in 
Alma’s face. 


SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


199 


Sally ran her fingers through her short curly hair 
with a distracted gesture. “ If I only had straight 
hair, I could stand not being a boy,” she wailed. 
“ It’s awful having to be a girl, but it’s something 
fierce being a curly-headed girl.” 

“ Oh,” Alma did her best not to laugh. The 
depths of martyrdom conveyed by the little girl’s 
tone made her long to shriek. “ So you don’t like 
curly hair. Some people think it’s pretty,” she ob- 
served in a consoling manner. 

“ Boys don’t,” gloomed Sally. “ Sometimes I 
wish I was a jellyfish, or a tad or anything that 
doesn’t have curly hair. When I was a real little, 
little girl,” she confided, “ I used to cry my eyes 
out ’cause I didn’t have lovely straight hair like 
the boys, and Jack found it out one night — 
Jack’s a year older than Tom — and he made 
up a rhyme about me, and he used to sing it 
in my ears all the time till Tom licked him 
for it.” 

“ I suppose you don’t remember the rhyme any 
more,” remarked Alma innocently, but her eyes 
were dancing. 

“ I’ve tried and tried to forget it, but I just can’t. 
This is the way it goes,” and rocking back and forth 
Sally sang without a tune : 


200 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


* “ Heigh lo, curly head, 

Cries when it goes to bed, 

Wants to have straight hair, 

Ties it to the leg of a chair, 

Heigh lo, curly head, 

Cries till its eyes are red.” 

“ Do you know the Wicks girls? ” she demanded 
with an abrupt change of subject. “ I met them 
on the train, and they seemed like real good fellows. 
They can do just loads of stunts the boys and I 
do at home, and first thing you know, we got to 
talking about my curly hair, and they felt almost 
as bad about it as I do, and all of a sudden one of 
them remembered a girl in their town who had hair 
curlier even than mine and she just hated it, and 
one day she heard of something that would take 
every single kink out of it, and — ” 

At that moment Dorothy sauntered in to remind 
her young cousin that a dresser-drawer required her 
immediate attention, and reluctantly Sally tore her- 
self away. Alma did not see her again during the 
afternoon, and when she drifted into the adjoining 
suite after dinner that evening ostensibly to borrow 
some papers for an English theme, in reality to hear 
more of Sally’s adventures with her brothers, the 
small person was not to be found. 


SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


201 


Meanwhile Sally was making a before-bedtime 
visit in the Wicks sisters’ room, and proceeding 
promptly to business, soon extracted their magic 
recipe for rendering obstinately curly hair straight 
as any string. 

“ Just get a basin of milk, you say, and souse and 
souse my head, and every curl’ll go,” Sally hopped 
excitedly on one foot. “ Is that all I have to do ? 
Why, that’s dead easy ! ” her small face was alight. 

“ Milk is good, but cream,” declared Emmy 
Wicks with a perfectly innocent expression, “ is a 
hundred times better.” 

“ Yes, cream is what you want,” chimed in Lucy, 
surreptitiously exchanging a wink with her sister. 
“ Carrots — that’s the name of the girl back in our 
town with the awfully curly red hair — used milk, 
but she said it’s cream that does the work fast. 
Why, one night she got a whole pitcher of cream, 
and put it on, and you should just have seen her 
hair — ” 

“ But how am I going to get cream ? ” broke in 
Sally, her eyes black with excitement. “ At home 
cook wouldn’t mind — that is, not very much,” she 
corrected herself hastily as several occasions when 
cook “ had minded ” flashed reminiscently through 
her mind. 


202 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Oh, Bridget’s a perfect dear,” Lucy fibbed 
cheerfully. “ Why, she doesn’t care what you do 
or what you take from the kitchen as long as you 
keep out from under her feet.” 

Less than two minutes later Sally was scampering 
down the back steps toward the region of the 
kitchen. For her it was all undiscovered, virgin 
country, but several experiences when she had as- 
sisted her brothers’ friends in similar expeditions 
to the kitchen-pantry stood her in good stead now. 
It was the work of but a moment to find the ice- 
box, and the coast being entirely clear — Bridget 
and two of the housemaids had gone to the house- 
keeper’s room for a social cup of tea — to reach 
in and tuck a bottle of milk and one of cream under 
each arm. 

It was fully a quarter of an hour after this that 
peculiar sounds emanating from the next chamber 
brought Dorothy and Alma, who were enjoying a 
bed-time confidence in the latter’s room, to the 
scene. “ I wonder what mischief Sally Soapfingers 
has been up to this time,” ejaculated Dorothy as she 
fairly tore open her bed-room door. “ She cer- 
tainly — ” The words died on her lips. Paralyzed, 
she and Alma stood in the doorway. A small figure 
in pink pajamas occupied the center of the floor. 


SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


203 


At her feet lay a heap of wet, lumpy towels. On 
a chair beside her was a wash-bowl, half-full of 
some white fluid, but what riveted the older girls’ 
gaze was the streams of the self-same fluid that 
literally poured down from her on to the towels, 
rug and floor. 

“ Sally Drew,” began Dorothy as sternly as she 
could, advancing into the room. “ What in the 
world — ” Then she knew. Speechless with 
laughter, she threw herself into the nearest chair, 
and Alma clung limply to the door-frame for sup- 
port. 

“ Milk,” gurgled Dorothy. 

“ Cream,” shouted Alma, relapsing into howls of 
mirth. 

“ Were you trying to do the Anna Held act?” 
Dorothy demanded when she recovered her breath. 

“ I don’t know Anna Held, and I’m not acting,” 
Sally asserted with as much dignity as the torrents 
of milk running down her face would allow. “ I’m 
only using ‘ an old and tried recipe for straighten- 
ing hair.’ ” Unconsciously she was quoting Lucy 
Wicks. 

Both girls subsided upon the bed in fits of laugh- 
ter. Presently they recovered themselves suffi- 
ciently to come to Sally’s rescue. 


204 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Of course the Wicks girls only meant it for a 
joke,” Dorothy said after she had managed to ex- 
tract an explanation of this strange proceeding from 
her small cousin. “ But they know perfectly well 
it’s against the Self-Government League to purloin 
anything from the kitchen.” 

“ Purloin,” repeated Sally with a stately manner. 
“ I didn’t purloin anything from the kitchen. Be- 
sides, I don’t know what that means. I just took 
a bottle of milk and a bottle of cream, and I’ll tell 
Bridget myself about it first thing in the morning. 
She won’t mind; Lucy Wicks says she’s a perfect 
dear.” 

“ A perfect dear ! Bridget a perfect dear ! ” cho- 
rused both girls, and promptly went off into a gale 
of laughter again. 

“ O Sally,” giggled Dorothy, “ you’re enough to 
make a chicken smile.” She was rubbing vigorously 
the mass of sticky hair as she spoke. “ Why, Brid- 
get is the kind that eats little girls’ heads 
off.” 

Sally did not speak again until through the com- 
bined efforts of the two older girls her hair had 
been restored to its usual state of curly, glossy soft- 
ness. For a full moment she considered her reflec- 
tion in a hand-glass. “ It’s not straight. It curls.” 


SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


205 


She brought out the words between her teeth. 
“ They fooled me. I’ll get even.” 

Just at that instant the door was pushed open 
a little way, and two blond heads were cautiously 
poked through. “ Come in, Wickses,” invited Sally 
sweetly, but an imp gleamed in either eye. “ You’re 
too late for the show, as my brothers say, but you 
can join in the shouting.” She waited a minute, 
then added with significant emphasis, “ Tom — he’s 
the youngest next to me, always says, ‘ Jokes like 
chickens come home to roost.’ ” 

The next morning Sally marched into the kitchen, 
confessed, and to the amazement of every one pres- 
ent, made friends on the spot with crusty old Brid- 
get. Then she surrendered herself to the mercies of 
the President of the Self-Government League, and 
bore her punishment manfully, without a whimper. 

Harriet, coming into Dorothy’s sitting-room that 
afternoon to borrow a book, found Sally busily 
memorizing an extra fifty lines from “ The Lady of 
the Lake.” She was rocking her body back and 
forth, her fingers in her ears for better attention, 
an expression of complete absorption and pleasure 
on her small face. 

“ Why, you seem to be enjoying yourself ! ” Har- 
riet exclaimed in surprise. 


206 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Of course I am. I love to learn poetry by 
heart,” remarked Sally in a severe tone. Harriet 
was not in her good graces. Her fussiness and her 
devotion to clothes made Sally’s small nose wrinkle 
scornfully upon occasion. “ That’s how you take 
the sting out of being punished, the boys say. But 
please run away now, and don’t disturb me,” she 
added in such a patronizing tone that even Harriet 
whose sense of humor was woefully stunted, had 
to smile. “ I’ve promised to go skating with Emmy 
Wicks at four.” 

“ Emmy Wicks ! ” Harriet repeated in wide-eyed 
wonder. “ Why, I didn’t suppose you’d even 
speak to her after what she and Lucy did to 
you.” 

“ Why, sure pop I speak to them,” rejoined Sally 
with the same imperturbable manner with which 
she had received all the teasing and bantering she 
had been subjected to since the Wicks girls had 
spread the story of the milk-and-cream shampoo. 
“ We’re almost friends by this time. You see, if 
I was goose enough to believe their flap-doodle, 
that’s my fault. All I’ve got to do is to get even.” 

“ How in the name of gracious goodness are you 
going to get even ? ” questioned Harriet with undis- 
guised curiosity. 


u 



MAKING THE CRISP AIR RING WITH THEIR MERRY 

LAUGHTER ” 



SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


207 


Sally’s only answer was a peculiar little twisted 
smile. 

The pond was covered with skaters when Sally, 
looking like a blue bird in her pretty skating outfit, 
skimmed across the ice. The instant she appeared 
Emmy Wicks swept down upon her, and the two 
sped away, making the crisp air ring with their 
merry laughter. They skated together the best part 
of the afternoon, much to the surprise of the other 
girls who marveled somewhat at this curiously- 
formed friendship. 

“ I shouldn’t think Sally’d be friends with girls 
who’d played such a trick on her, and got her pun- 
ished for it,” Josephine Douglas voiced the senti- 
ments of many of the girls. “ It won’t last, though, 
that I’m sure.” But it did to all appearances. For 
every afternoon while the clear, cold weather en- 
dured, Sally and the Wicks sisters made merry on 
the ice. Dorothy, however, who knew well Sally’s 
determination and spirit, appreciated the fact that 
she was merely biding her time. 

“ She won’t be satisfied with any ordinary trick.” 
Dorothy was discussing her small cousin with her 
friend on one of their before-breakfast walks. 
“ She’s an original little being, and she’ll wait long 
and patiently till just the right thing turns up. I 


208 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


know her from experience. I played a joke on her, 
and it was months before she paid me back — but 
it was with compound interest, let me tell you.” 

“ She certainly is seven-eighths boy,” declared 
Alma, as she and Dorothy crunched along over the 
hard snow. “ I never knew a girl before who could 
run and jump and climb and wrestle just like a boy, 
and yet she isn’t a bit rough or hoydenish. She 
just knows how to do things that most girls don’t. 
Sally wouldn’t — oh, there’s Dru, up there in the 
window,” she interrupted herself eagerly. “ Let’s 
shout to her, and get her to come for a walk.” 

“ Oh, don’t let’s,” pleaded Dorothy. “ I never 
have you a minute to myself these days. You’re 
always having to do something for Harriet, or 
the twins want you, or you’ve promised to help 
Mattie Robbins look after some pet lamb.” 

Alma hesitated a minute. “ That’s right, Dee, 
we don’t have much time to be together these days, 
do we? But things will surely ease up after mid- 
years are over. It’s just because mid-years are so 
near that I wanted Dru to come out into the fresh 
air with us. She’s working herself to the bone and 
besides killing herself with worry. I wonder Miss 
Wright doesn’t notice it.” 

“ M iss Wright has had her hands full since she 


SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


209 


found out that some of the Freshies and Sophs 
had been buying their Math, papers and Latin 
Comp, exercises from that Briggs girl,” cham- 
pioned Dorothy warmly. “ All right, honey-child, 
I don’t mean to be selfish. Go ahead and call Dru. 
She’s a nice little thing, and I wish we could do 
something to make her look happier. I wonder,” 
she went on as they waited for Drusilla to fly into 
her outdoor wraps, “ how a girl who lives in such 
a tumble-down shanty as that Briggs girl does 
could write exercises for the girls.” 

“ Somebody said she went to high school for 
two or three years, and was a perfect shark,” Alma 
retailed her information with an animated manner, 
“ but she had to give up school because her father 
drinks or does something dreadful. Poor girl! I 
wish I could see her and do something for her. 
Wouldn’t it be perfectly dreadful, Dee,” she turned 
eyes misty with distress upon the other, “ to have 
a father you’d be ashamed of, and who wouldn’t 
let you go to school ? ” 

“ You’re a funny youngster to get yourself all 
worked up about a girl you’ve never seen,” Doro- 
thy remarked in an amused tone, but she gave 
Alma’s arm an affectionate squeeze. “ I do believe, 
though, you’re interested in any girl who has a hard 


210 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


time in this world, and if her father isn’t good to 
her, you’re even interesteder, as Sally would say. 
But you’d better save your sympathy for this Briggs 
girl, as you’re not likely to set eyes on her. They 
say she never stirs out of the house.” 

“ No, I shall probably never see her,” Alma said 
regretfully. “ Especially as Hadley Hall is not to 
make any more calls at her shanty. Hurry, Dee, 
it’s almost time for the breakfast-bell.” 

The next afternoon, Alma, returning from study- 
hour in the Assembly Hall, dragged herself wearily 
into her own sitting-room. Dropping her armful 
of books on the study-table, she sank into the near- 
est easy-chair with a sigh of exasperation. “If 
only Harriet would keep the room from looking as 
if a tornado had struck it,” she glanced about the 
disorderly room with a troubled gaze. “ But mercy 
me,” she reproved herself the next minute, “ I’m 
not a paragon of neatness myself. I’m just begin- 
ning to learn order. I suppose I’m tired and cross 
from boning for those dreadful exams, and any- 
how, I’m beginning to have a sort of end-of-the- 
term feeling. I’m sure — ” A piece of folded 
paper protruding from an apron-pocket of Elaine, 
who sat in state on top of her mistress’ desk, 
brought her up standing. 


SALLY’S MILK SHAMPOO 


211 


“ ‘ For Alma/ ” she read. “ Whose crazy hand- 
writing is that? And what kind of a joke is it? 
Well, here goes/’ 

“ Dear Alma/’ it began, “ one of the girls told 
me how you helped Jo Douglas last year when she 
got in trouble. We’re in trouble now. We want 
you to help us. Meet us at four o’clock at the big 
elm near the hockey field. Bring five dollars with 
you, and don’t tell a soul. 

“ Your loving friends, 

“ Emmy and Lucy Wicks. 

“ P. S. Emmy thinks I ought to tell you what 
we want to do with the money. Maybe you won’t 
come when you know, but please do, or something 
dreadful will happen to us. We owe it to the 
Briggs girl, and she’s going to tell on us if we 
don’t bring it to-day. We haven’t got a cent. 
Please come.” 

Alma read the note through once, twice, and 
again. As always when deeply stirred or excited, 
she flushed and paled, flushed and paled. For some 
minutes she stood beside her desk, staring hard at 
her beloved rag-doll, as if seeking advice. Then 


212 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


she nodded her head rapidly, “ I know what you’d 
do, Elaine,” she said half-aloud, “ if you were in 
my place.” As she spoke, she was opening a drawer 
in her desk, and a moment later, stuffing a crisp 
new bill into the pocket of her coat, had softly 
closed the door behind her. 

It was less than ten minutes afterwards that the 
self-same door was torn open, and Sally Drew 
burst in like a tempestuous little sprite. Finding 
only Elaine in possession of the field, she eyed her 
wistfully for one prolonged second. “ The boys 
won’t ever know,” she whispered guiltily. She 
struggled hard with the temptation. The next in- 
stant she was in the rocking-chair, Elaine cuddled 
close in her arms. “ You’re nothing but a rag- 
doll, I know,” she cooed, “ but you’re a real ducky 
dear, and I’m going to tell you a secret. I just 
had a letter from Tom — I’m glad you don’t know 
Tom, Elaine, he tomahawks dolls — and he told me 
the way to get even.” 


CHAPTER XI 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 

The short winter day was drawing to a swift 
close when Alma and the Wicks sisters turned in 
at an opening in the hedge which encircled Hadley 
Hall’s snow-blanketed grounds. 

“ U-u-ugh, how dark and cold it is ! ” shivered 
Lucy. How I hope we won’t meet anybody 
before we get to school! Oh,” she gave a startled 
little scream, “ what was that ? ” 

“ Goosie,” laughed Alma, “ that was only the 
wind rattling the icy branches.” 

Both Emmy and Lucy drew a deep breath of 
relief. “ It sounded like s-s-spirits,” Emmy said 
with chattering teeth, “ and if there’s anything in 
the w-w-world we’re afraid of it’s s-s-spirits.” 

“ Spirits,” repeated Alma incredulously, as she 
quickened her steps to keep pace with her compan- 
ions, who were almost running by this time. “ Spir- 
its ! Whatever do you mean ? Ghosts ? ” 

“ N-no, s-»s-spirits from the grave. We’ve been 
to spirit-meetings home once or twice,” Lucy called 
213 


214 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


back over her shoulder. “We love to go. It’s so 
s-scarey and funny to see a medium bring back 
spirits from the dead, but u-u-ugh, let’s not talk 
of them out here in the dark.” 

They flew along in silence until they neared the 
front entrance of the school. At the foot of the 
steps the sisters waited for Alma to catch up with 
them. Emmy seized Alma’s arm in a nervous 
grasp, and Lucy clutched her hand. “ Promise,” 
they whispered, casting glances about them to make 
sure they were not overheard, “ Promise, honest 
and truly, black and bluely, you won’t tell on us.” 

“ I did promise that already,” declared Alma 
irritably. “ What’s the use of being so fussy when 
I’ve given my word ? ” But as they persisted she 
swore the desired oath, and the next instant, as if 
shot from a catapult, the sisters bolted into the 
front door. 

Alma did not follow them. A small dark object 
bounding along in the snow had attracted her at- 
tention. She walked a few steps down the path 
and whistled. In answer to the whistled invitation, 
Patsy fairly tore across the grounds and, to show 
his utter joy at the unexpected meeting, danced 
about his mistress’ feet, barked and leaped up to 
kiss her face. So absorbed were girl and dog in 


SALLY “GETS EVEN ” 


215 


their frolic that neither heard any one approach 
until a voice sounded close to Alma’s ear. “ Did 
you come out for a little run with Patsy, my dear? ” 

Alma betrayed her surprise by the way she 
wheeled around. “ Oh,” she gasped, “ it’s you, 
Miss Wright. N-no, I didn’t come out to play 
with Patsy.” 

“ It’s too late for you to be out alone in the 
grounds,” chided the principal in her gentle man- 
ner. “ You should have some one older with you 
if you want to walk before dinner.” She had 
slipped her arm affectionately in the girl’s, and was 
drawing her toward the school. Patsy, who could 
not understand why the fun had ceased so suddenly, 
followed slowly for a few steps; then as he was 
not invited to accompany his mistress, being a 
polite dog, he stood still, gazed after Alma with 
big, reproachful eyes, and presently trotted off in 
search of August, on whose masculine sympathies 
he could always count. 

Alma hesitated a perceptible second before she 
answered, “ I wasn’t walking around the grounds 
either, Miss Wright. I intended to come to your 
office before dinner. I wanted you to know I’ve 
been to see Jennie Briggs this afternoon.” She did 
her best to speak quietly. 


216 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“You went to Jennie Briggs?” Astonishment 
made Miss Wright speak slowly. “ Why did you 
go? 

In spite of the darkness, Alma fancied she could 
see the pained expression on her companion’s 
face. 

“ I’m ever so sorry,” she faltered. “ I — I had 
to, and I’m ready to be punished. I want to be 
punished.” 

“Why did you go?” repeated the principal. 
“ Tell me,” she took the girl’s hand in hers and 
the two mounted the steps together. 

“ I had to,” persisted the other in a strangled 
voice. “ I can’t tell you why. I promised.” 

“ Then, it’s as I suspected,” Miss Wright said 
with a grave shake of her head, but there was a 
ring of satisfaction in her voice which escaped the 
girl’s ears. After all, she had not been disappointed 
in her estimate of Alma’s character. She was not 
the girl to do a cowardly or underhanded act. 
“ You didn’t go of your own accord. You’re 
shielding some girl. Come in here, my dear.” 
She led the way into the small reception room where 
soft-shaded lamps were casting a pleasant light on 
delicately tinted walls and rugs. 

“ Sit down and let’s talk it over.” She seated 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


217 


herself on a divan, and motioned Alma to a place 
beside her with her usual graciousness of manner. 

But the girl seemed not to have heard her. She 
went and stood by the fireplace, whose ruddy glow 
Peter, the housekeeper’s cat, was luxuriously ab- 
sorbing. At Alma’s coming the sleepy cat opened 
one lazy eye, yawned, stretched, and settled down 
again in comfort. 

“ It’s nearly time for the dressing-bell, Alma,” 
Miss Wright’s low voice startled the girl from her 
musing. “ I’m waiting to hear what you have to 
tell me.” 

Alma whirled about. As always when much 
moved, her face was very white, and her large eyes 
were soft and wistful. “ Miss Wright,” her voice 
came silver-clear, “ I’ve done something wrong, I 
know. I’ve disobeyed your orders and I suppose 
it doesn’t make it any better to tell you I did it with 
my eyes wide open. I’m ready to take my punish- 
ment for going to see Jennie Briggs after you told 
us not to. But please, please,” she took a step or 
two in the direction of the divan, “ don’t ask me 
to tell any more. I can’t. I’ve given my promise, 
and I can’t break my word of honor.” 

Courage and strength were Miss Wright’s watch- 
words, but she owned to an unusual feeling of 


218 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


inability to cope with the situation as she eyed the 
slender, appealing, resolute young figure before her. 

“ I am not asking you to break your promise,” 
she rejoined after a moment’s reflection. “ I want 
you to tell what you know of this unpleasant affair 
of your own free will. Don’t you realize that you 
have foolishly agreed to shield some girl in her 
wrong-doing,” she went on in a gentle tone, “ and 
as often happens, the wrong-doing of one girl in- 
volves the falling from grace of another. You are 
not doing an act of kindness either to that girl by 
bearing the brunt of this all alone. She has played 
the part of a coward in drawing you into the scrape 
and then running away from the consequences her- 
self.” 

“ They — she didn’t know I’d get into trouble,” 
confessed Alma miserably. “ I don’t think she 
dreamed I was going to tell on myself. I just 
promised I wouldn’t tell on the — on her. And 
anyhow, it’s all over and done now, and this girl 
is never, never going there again, and she’s ever 
so sorry and ashamed, and — oh, please, please, 
don’t ask me to say any more, Miss Wright,” she 
ended with a half-sob, “ because don’t you see, I 
can’t, I just can’t. I gave my sacred promise.” 

And thus matters were at the end of the inter- 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


219 


view. Miss Wright argued, coaxed, explained. 
But Alma, with the usual exaggerated school-girl 
view of her “ word of honor,” stood her ground 
tearfully but firmly, ready to immolate herself on 
the altar of friendship. 

Miss Wright already had her hand on the knob 
of the door when impulsively she turned about, 
and came over to where Alma stood, head down- 
cast, the picture of distress. Placing one hand on 
the girl’s shoulder, she raised the unhappy face 
until she could look deep into the great black eyes. 

“ I’ve already explained to you, Alma,” she said 
quietly, “ that by your refusing to tell you are 
making me suspicious of every girl in the Fresh- 
man and Sophomore classes. I have been deeply 
troubled over this Jennie Briggs affair, more wor- 
ried than I care to acknowledge, and when I dis- 
cussed the matter openly with the whole school 
some days ago, I thought I could trust my girls 
one and all, and I was so relieved to dismiss it 
from my mind. Now, I shall have to go over the 
whole unpleasant subject again,” she sighed wea- 
rily, and the grieved look about her mouth and her 
tired eyes made Alma swallow hard to choke back 
a sob, “ and if the girl refuses to confess, I shall 
have to ask Jennie Briggs — ” 


220 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Miss Wright,” Alma broke in excitedly, 
“ couldn’t you please not say a word to anybody 
about it, but just let me be punished for the whole 
thing ? I think — I’m perfectly sure — that girl’s 
been punished enough already, and, besides, she’d 
feel worse if I had to stand it alone than if she’d 
come right out with it in the first place. Please — ” 
She stopped abruptly, and stood clasping her hands 
and devouring the older woman’s face with tragic 
eyes. 

“ You looked just like your mother then,” Miss 
Wright murmured irrelevantly, and her face grew 
dreamy and pensive. The tension of the little si- 
lence that followed her words was broken pres- 
ently when she brought out her dictum ; “ I’ll have 
to lay your case before the Self-Government League 
Committee. If possible you shall have your way.” 

For one fleeting second her lips rested on the 
girl’s forehead, then she was gone. 

That same evening Alma was reading quietly in 
her room during recreation hour, when the door 
opened and Mattie Robbins with Virginia Adams 
and several others of the committee walked in. 
Mattie was the spokesman. Her usually merry 
face was sober, and every mischievous dimple had 
fled. 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


221 


“ The committee has considered your offense 
carefully/’ she began with a dignity which sat oddly 
upon her. Suddenly she cast her official manner 
and stateliness to the winds, and fairly threw her- 
self on Alma. “ Oh, childie, why did you do it? ” 
she groaned. “ Of course there was only one thing 
we could do to punish you.” 

Alma nodded, her eyes holding the other girl’s 
steadily. “ I know,” she said. “ I’m to give up 
being ‘ Snow-White ’ in the operetta.” 

“And spoil the whole thing!” put in Virginia 
tartly. “ There isn’t another girl in school who can 
take the part, and I call it a shame just when we 
were counting on raising a good big sum to help 
our ‘ Franz Schmidt ’ fund.” 

“ Why couldn’t you have waited a few weeks 
if you had to break rules!” wailed one of the 
other girls. “ I think it’s downright mean of you 
to go and get yourself punished in this fashion 
when you know how badly we need you.” 

“ Don’t you talk like that to my Alma,” cried a 
sharp little voice behind them, and the committee 
wheeled about with unsubdued exclamations of sur- 
prise. On the threshold of the door which con- 
nected Alma’s and Dorothy’s rooms stood a small 
figure bristling with indignation. “ I knocked, but 


222 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


every one was talking so much you didn’t hear me,” 
Sally explained, addressing herself to Alma. “ I 
just knew they were scolding you — Dee told me 
you were in some scrape or other — and I couldn’t 
stand it a minute longer.” Impetuously she faced 
Virginia Adams. “ I just guess she couldn’t help 
it if she was bad to-day. Being bad’s like being 
sick. You’ve got to take it when it comes.” With 
that she departed as abruptly as she came. 

The committee had just taken a tearful leave 
when Dorothy put in an appearance. Slipping on 
to the arm of Alma’s chair she crushed her friend’s 
shoulders in a hug. For a moment neither girl 
spoke. 

“ Everybody’s dreadfully sorry, honey,” Doro- 
thy observed with a pensive air, “ in fact, the whole 
school has heard the bad news already, and has 
gone to pieces over it. I’m blessed if I know what 
we’ll do without you. We might just as well give 
up the whole operetta. You couldn’t, I suppose — ” 

“ No, I couldn’t,” was the quiet answer. 

“ Of course not,” assented Dorothy heartily. “ I 
told the other girls it wouldn’t do the least bit of 
good to try to make you change your mind. You’re 
not the kind to — ” 

She did not finish, for the door opened suddenly 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


223 


to admit Harriet. A moment later, on the plea of 
some extra Latin prose to write before bed-time, 
Dorothy vanished into her own sitting-room. 

Harriet threw herself without a word, face down- 
ward among the pillows on the couch, and Alma 
opened her book again. Not a sound broke the 
stillness except the ticking of the little clock on the 
study-table. Suddenly Harriet sat up. “ You 
ought to be the happiest girl alive, Alma Peabody,” 
she burst out impetuously. 

The girl addressed looked at her with a be- 
wildered opening of her eyes. “ I don’t seem 
to be overcome with happiness to-night,” she said 
slowly. “ Just why do you think I ought to be 
so happy ? ” 

“ Oh, you have gone and done something against 
the rules, and you have the whole school in weeps 
over it.” Harriet was fidgeting about the room 
now. “ I can tell you there’d be precious few to 
sympathize with me if I’d done what you did,” she 
went on with a little sigh. “ Of course everybody 
believes you just trotted along with some girl to 
help her out of a scrape.” She waited for Alma 
to say something, but as there was no response 
curiosity got the better of discretion. “ Maybe that 
was only a bluff, though, and you went of your 


224 ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


own accord. Did you ? I heard Miss Pillsbury tell 
you your Algebra papers were ever so much bet- 
ter the last few weeks. Did Jennie Briggs help 
you ? ” 

Alma felt the familiar blaze of fire in her brain. 
For one second the room swam before her in 
waves of red, then the mist cleared, and she recov- 
ered herself. But there was a proud little lift to 
her chin, and a dash of color in her cheeks as she 
brought herself to say with composure, “ I’ve never 
had any help from Jennie Briggs. But please don’t 
let’s talk about that.” 

‘ Do you mean to say you’re letting yourself be 
punished to help some other girl ? ” Harriet de- 
manded incredulously. “ What are you doing it 
for anyway ? ” 

Alma bent her head lower over her book. 

“ W-well,” Harriet continued as she pulled open 
her desk-drawer, and began to search wildly 
through its chaotic contents, “ I wish I was you. 
When you do something wrong, you have gump- 
tion enough to ’fess up, and get it over with. You 
don’t have it weighing down your mind like a ton 
of bricks.” 

Alma glanced at her with a face full of pity. 
“ Wh y don ’t you ’fess up, Harry, and get rid of 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


225 


what’s troubling you? You’ll be ever and ever 
so much happier.” 

“ I couldn’t, I wouldn’t dare — now.” Involun- 
tarily Harriet shivered. “ It’s so long ago — oh, 
I couldn’t, but I wish — I wish I hadn’t done it.” 
Her eyes filled, and she turned away. The next 
minute she fell to searching through her desk- 
drawer again. 

“ Where in the world did I put that prose paper? 
I’ve just got to find it to-night, and copy it or Miss 
Randolph’ll take my head off to-morrow. Oh, how 
I hate the beastly old stuff — and her into the bar- 
gain ! ” She added the last words to herself, but 
Alma’s sharp ears caught them. 

“ Indeed you don’t hate Miss Randolph,” she 
flashed indignantly. “ Why, nobody could, and I 
don’t believe you hate Latin either lately, Harriet 
Ward. You’ve been working at it harder, and I’m 
sure you’ve done better work. Do you know,” 
Alma went on in a reflective tone, “ I’ve thought 
several times it hurts Miss Randolph to have you 
act so disagreeable toward her, and in some ways 
she’s nicer and more patient with you than with 
any other girl in the class.” 

“ She makes me feel so small and insignificant,” 
complained Harriet. “ She seems to see right 


226 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


through me, and I know she thinks me a perfect 
sham. And every time I go to class, I know perfectly 
well she's remembering I once used that ‘ pony,’ 
and she probably thinks I am an out-and-out cheat 
and — ” She was working herself into a fine 
frenzy when Alma interrupted energetically, “ Non- 
sense, she doesn’t do anything of the kind. Only 
I know it annoys her to have you fake up a head- 
ache or something of the sort every time we have 
a Latin test. She knows, and so do the rest of us, 
that it gives you more time to study up for the 
private test she has to give you. But I’d advise 
you not to stay away from mid-years, Harriet, or 
something’ll happen, I am sure.” 

Alma’s last visitors that night were the Moore 
twins. She had just indulged in a stretch and a 
yawn, and risen to her feet with a firm resolve to 
turn in early, when in they danced. In their white 
night-dresses, and lace boudoir caps, they looked so 
exactly alike that Alma stared at them in bewilder- 
ment. Hand in hand they pirouetted about the 
room like joyous sprites, their small slippered feet 
fairly twinkling. Presently they dropped panting, 
the one on the couch, the other into an easy-chair. 
“ We heard you were in the bottom of the pit of 
blues,” they began as always in a chorus, “ so we 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


227 


thought we'd come in to tell you the pitiful tale of 
the googly-bug, and show you how he danced him- 
self to death.” 

Their story proved irresistibly funny, and Alma 
laughed until her cheeks were wet with tears. But 
their descriptive dance was even funnier, and the 
small audience of one was speedily reduced to an 
abject little heap among the window-cushions, too 
overcome with tearful mirth even to applaud. 

It was a very tired Alma that slipped between 
the bed-covers a half-hour later, but a good part 
of her depression had fled. “ If I can’t be 4 Snow- 
White ’ in the operetta, at least I can help a couple 
of girls who are in trouble,” went through her 
mind, “ and not whine about the consequences. 
It’s going to be awfully hard staying away from 
rehearsals — oh, dearie me, there’s one to-morrow 
night — and I know I shall just break my heart 
the night of the operetta, but — ” Sleep claimed 
her before she could round out her thought. 

“ I don’t want to go to that rehearsal any more 
than a rabbit,” grumbled Dorothy as they rose from 
the dinner-table the next evening. She linked arms 
with Alma, and the two proceeded leisurely out of 
the dining-room. “ I honestly don’t see the use 
of trying to give the show without you. Rubber 


228 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Ball can’t do the part, and she knows it. It cer- 
tainly is going to be a flat fizzle,” she predicted with 
an ominous shake of her head. “ I don’t suppose 
there’s a ghost of a chance of your being allowed 
to be ‘ Snow-White.’ ” She eyed her companion 
anxiously. 

“ Not unless I tell,” replied Alma with a faint 
smile, “ or get the other girls to. And you know, 
Dee, I can’t, and they’re not likely to.” 

“ Other girls,” Dorothy snapped at the clue. 
“ Why-ee, I thought there was only one villain in 
this ghoulish crime. The plot thickens and waxes 
interesting.” She waved her arms with a theatrical 
gesture. “ Ha, I have an idea. To-night after 
rehearsal Daisy Dunce is going to have a seance. 
During the holidays she went to a spiritual meeting 
she says, and she’s promised to go in a trance to- 
night and show us her ‘ control ’ and do some hair- 
raising stunts. I’m going to get the spirits to help 
us find the villains and free the lady from the ac- 
cursed spell.” 

“ You’re getting mixed, Dee,” Alma giggled as 
her friend intended she should. “ You need a de- 
tective or blood-hounds to run down this mystery, 
not spirits. I’m dreadfully sorry I can’t come, but 
it’s the last thing I’ll have to stay away from — 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


229 


except the operetta. I know you’ll have a perfectly 
gorgeous time. I’d give half of my next month’s 
allowance to see the Wicks girls’ faces. They’re 
simply dippy on the subject of spirits.” 

“ Oh, they’ll be there — in the front row,” de- 
clared Dorothy with one of her gay little laughs. 
“ I believe it was they who induced Daisy to give 
this wonderful exhibition of her spiritual powers, 
and she’s such an imp I know she’ll carry it off 
with a high hand.” 

“ That means an evening of solitary confinement 
for me,” Alma’s eyes took on a wistful look. 
“ Maybe, Sally — ,” she ventured in a more hope- 
ful tone. 

Dorothy shook her head. 

“ That small cousin of mine has had something 
weighty on her mind for the past few days. Just 
what it is I haven’t discovered yet. She’s been 
drawing things, and sending them off in letters, 
and to-day when she got a letter from Tom — he’s 
her side-partner in all her mischief — I could see 
over her shoulder it had some kind of a plan of a 
room in it, and what he wrote sent her into perfect 
fits of laughter. I asked her what the joke was, 
and she looked sober as a judge at once, and said 
Tom was merely explaining some kind of a joke 


230 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


he’d played on some fellows who hazed him, but, 
of course, she didn’t approve of such doings in the 
least. I’ve watched her pretty closely, and all I 
could discover was that she’s been making a col- 
lection of spools of black linen thread. I asked her 
just before dinner if she would like to come to the 
rehearsal, but she said she had a great many things 
to do this evening, and I was not to be surprised 
if she didn’t get to bed on time.” 

Alma had just curled up on her couch for a 
thoroughly enjoyable evening with a new book, 
when the door-knob turned and in bounced a small 
person in pink pajamas and bed-room slippers. 
Her hair had drawn itself up into even tighter 
ringlets than usual, Alma decided as she called out 
cordially, “ Howdy, Sally, come on in and be so- 
ciable.” 

But Sally demanded with an imperious wave of 
her hand, “ Where’s your work-basket? I want to 
borrow a couple of spools of black thread.” Her 
blue eyes were flashing wickedly, and her cheeks 
were rose-flushed. When she had possessed herself 
of the desired objects she skipped across the room 
and whispered with impish glee, “ To-night’s the 
night for getting even. Keep Dee off my track till 
I get back,” and was gone. 



“ ' TO - night’s the night for getting even ’ ” 




SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


231 


It was some time before Alma could prevent the 
' merry little pink-clad figure from dancing between 
her and the printed page. Her eyes twinkled with 
amusement as she recalled the mischievous smile 
that played about the childish mouth, and once she 
half-started up from her seat possessed with a long- 
ing to have a hand in the joke herself. But grad- 
ually the story began to weave its magic spell, and 
soon she was living between the covers of the book, 
faring forth with the hero in quest of adventure, 
sharing his sorrows and joys. 

But Sally, the instant she had closed Alma’s 
door, and assured herself the coast was clear, went 
scampering down the corridor, into the Wicks sis- 
ters’ room. “ It’s lucky for me Emmy and Lucy 
made up their minds to help the girls get ready 
for the rehearsal,” she giggled to herself as she set 
to work with a will. Hither and thither she darted 
in a fashion that would have mystified any on- 
looker. She stopped now and then to consult an 
open letter which lay on the table, then began her 
operations again with even greater ardor than be- 
fore. Occasionally she chuckled, but, for the most 
part, she worked silently, cheeks a vivid red, tongue 
between her teeth. > At last she stood back, and 
surveyed the scene with a satisfied air. 


232 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ O Peter ! ” she gave vent to her favorite ex- 
clamation. “ It was awfully cute of Tom to think 
of putting all those threads under that rug, but it 
was some hard to do.” She pushed back the moist 
curls from her forehead with the back of one 
grubby hand, “ I’ll just snuggle down in this chair 
till it’s time to begin. It won’t be long now.” 

The minutes, however, passed with exasperating 
slowness, and Sally who was watching the clock 
and at the same time straining her ears to catch the 
first sound of the breaking up of the spiritualistic 
meeting, had a desperate struggle to keep awake. 
Several times the curly head nodded and once she 
thought she heard Tom’s voice calling her, “ Sally 
Soapfingers.” 

Time wore on, and presently she heard a door 
in the lower hall open, and girlish voices were borne 
up to her. Quick as a flash she seized the nail to 
which some dozen black threads were carefully 
fastened, snapped off the lights, and crawled under 
one of the small white beds which occupied either 
end of the room. A big February moon shining 
straight in made the room silvery bright. 

Two minutes later Emmy and Lucy Wicks 
walked in and began to undress in solemn silence. 
Now and then they glanced uneasily over their 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


233 


shoulders. Presently the stillness grew oppressive. 
“ U-ugh, it was awful,” shuddered Lucy, while she 
was brushing her hair. “ You will never catch me 
in Daisy Dunce’s room again.” 

“ Nor me either,” agreed her sister, as she sat 
down on the floor to unlace her boots. “ It’s just 
full of spirits. I don’t care if the other girls did 
laugh and say it was all our imagination. I guess 
I know a spirit when I see one, and I certainly saw 
more than I wanted to to-night.” 

“ Same here.” Lucy ineffectually tried to stifle 
a yawn. “ Say, Em,” she began after a moment’s 
hesitation, “ do you suppose those beds are too 
narrow for two ? It’s nearly zero to-night — and 
I’m afraid you might take cold, you know, if you 
sleep alone, you’re so apt to kick the covers off.” 

“ Let’s try,” responded Emmy, and not another 
word was spoken until the two sisters had tried 
with but small success to place themselves com- 
fortably in the single bed, beneath which lay a little 
pink-clad figure scarcely daring to breathe. 

“ My, how light this room is ! ” remarked Emmy 
nervously. “ I know I sha’n’t sleep a wink. Heav- 
ens, what was that?” She clutched her sister’s 
arm frantically. 

“ I — d-don’t know. I thought that rug moved.” 


234 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ So did I.” 

“ I’m sure it did. And, oh, look there, that 
chair’s rocking.” 

“ And my hat-box is moving,” declared Lucy in 
a frightened whisper. 

“ Your picture on the dresser! And the combs 
and brushes ! ” 

“ Oh-h-h ! what’s that at the window ! ” Emmy 
was sitting up in bed now, her eyes preternaturally 
big with terror. “ It’s the spirits, Lu. They’re 
after us ’cause we didn’t do what was right about 
Jennie Briggs. Don’t you hear them rapping at 
the window ! What shall we do ! ” 

But Lucy had stuffed the bed-clothes in her ears 
and was whimpering with fright. 

“ They’ve stopped now. No, there they go 
again. They want something of us,” declared 
Emmy in awestruck tones. “ Don’t you remember 
that medium at home says they often want to tell 
people things, and they can’t always make them 
understand. O Lu, what do they want of us, do 
you s’pose?” 

“ I don’t know,” half-sobbed Lucy. 

“ Listen, Lu. Didn’t Daisy say three taps meant 
some crime had been done? Maybe they want us 
to tell that we got Alma into the scrape. Oh-h-h, 


SALLY “ GETS EVEN ” 


235 


how loud they’re rapping! I can’t stand it another 
minute. There, they’ve stopped.” 

For a minute or two there was a perfect stillness 
in the room, then Lucy began in a whisper, “ That’s 
what they want, Em. Let’s put on our kimonos 
and slippers, and go down to Miss Wright’s room 
right away. I’ll turn on the light. I’m not so 
f-f-frightened now.” 

It took several minutes of whispered discussion 
and several returns of the tapping at the window 
before the sisters could summon enough courage 
to slip out of bed, flash on the lights, seize the 
necessary articles of wearing apparel, and make a 
hasty flight. 

The door had barely closed upon them, when a 
small figure in pink pajamas crept from its hiding- 
place, did a brief dance of triumph, and stopping 
only long enough to break off all tell-tale black 
threads and remove the cleverly constructed tattoo 
at the window, beat a speedy retreat. 

The stream of light under Alma’s sitting-room 
door was an invitation to enter. Harriet was al- 
ready in bed, but Alma was devouring the last chap- 
ter of her book when Sally stole up behind her. 
Flinging her arms about the older girl’s neck, she 
gave her a hug which threatened to strangle her. 


236 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ The Wickses and I are quits/’ she whispered, her 
eyes almost dancing out of her head with delight, 
“ and I think Miss Wright’s going to let you be 
‘ Snow-White ’ after all.” 


CHAPTER XII 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 

Until mid-years were over the girls of Hadley 
Hall worked at a white heat : they played with 
no less fervor and energy during the brief vacation 
between semesters. So February melted imper- 
ceptibly into March, and March with its blustery 
winds and raw, cheerless days passed by unevent- 
fully. Then one morning Hadley Hall woke to 
the magic of April-blue skies, sunshine and springy 
odors. A robin that had been far afield that morn- 
ing flew to Alma’s window-sill, and chirped gaily 
of the flowers that were pushing, pushing their 
heads up out of the earth, of the trees that were 
already veiling themselves in misty green, of the 
birds that had come back at the clarion-call of 
spring to mate and make the world glad with their 
merry piping. 

The robin’s first note brought the girl to the 
window. “ Sweet, sweet,” she mimicked the liquid 
song as she knelt beside the window-ledge. 

237 


238 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Sweet, sweet,” twittered the friendly fellow, 
fluttering off to the nearest bush. 

“ ‘ The year’s at the spring, 

The day’s at the morn, 

Morning’s at seven, 

The hill-side’s dew-pearled, 

The lark’s on the wing, 

The snail’s on the thorn. 

God’s in His heaven, 

All’s well with the world! ’ ” 

chanted Alma, drawing deep breaths of the pure 
morning air. “ Oh, it’s a day fresh from the throne 
of God. I wonder how there can be any sickness 
or sorrow or wickedness on a day like this. Why, 
everybody ought to be singing with joy just as the 
birds are.” 

For some minutes longer she loitered there, rev- 
eling in the beauty of the early morning; then, as 
the school-bell chimed out the hour for rising, re- 
luctantly she tore herself away, and began to dress. 
While she dressed, her heart was singing a song of 
gladness, and now and then her voice rang out in 
gushes of melody. She was just ready to slip out 
for her morning ramble with Dorothy when Cath- 
erine Ball raced in. Her fat, rosy face was rosier 
than ever, and she was too occupied in trying to 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 239 


recover her breath to answer Alma’s friendly greet- 
ing. 

“ I hurried to catch you — before you went walk- 
ing,” Catherine puffed, leaning against the door- 
frame and knotting her blouse-tie as she spoke. 
“ It’s awful to be fat, and try to run,” she declared 
with a gloomy air that made Alma’s eyes twinkle. 
“ But I didn’t intend to mention my own troubles. 
It’s about that old operetta. I’ll be gray-headed 
before it’s pulled off. Next time I’m made Chair- 
man of the Com. of Arrangements I’m going to 
make sure that half the chorus doesn’t have to 
go home week-ends to help relatives get married, 
and I’ll see to it, too, that we don’t have to post- 
pone it at least a dozen times on account of an 
epidemic of mumps or Alumnae who insist on lec- 
turing to us about the heathen in Ceylon or Abys- 
sinia or — ” Only the lack of breath made her 
stop. 

“ What’s the matter now ? ” asked Alma good- 
naturedly, but her eyes were fixed longingly on the 
enticing out-door world. “ Have I done something 
dreadful again so I can’t be ‘ Snow-White,’ or is 
it ‘ Rose-Red ’ this time who’s in a scrape? ” 

“ You know what trouble I had getting the girls 
who are to usher to have their dresses made alike.” 


240 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Catherine was too absorbed in her own problem 
even to notice the other’s gently bantering tone. 
“ Well, Drusilla first didn’t think she could have 
a new dress, but I coaxed her to write home, and 
her mother said if we’d get her a pattern she’d 
make the dress, and send it right on, and she did, 
and we’ve been down to the Express Office at least 
a half-dozen times lately, and when we were down 
there last night the man said if Dru’s mother sent 
it when she wrote she did, it should have been here 
days ago, and probably it got lost or something on 
account of that train that was wrecked.” 

“ Poor Drusie,” exclaimed Alma under her 
breath. 

“ Of course I gave her my solemn word not to 
mention it to a living soul, but I just had to tell 
some one or burst.” The plump face turned so 
red Alma had fears she would carry out her threat 
on the spot. “ Now what am I going to do?” 
Catherine threw out her hands in a despairing ges- 
ture. “ It’s oceans too late to ask some other girl 
to get a new dress on a minute’s notice and take 
her place. Besides, no girl’d be willing to play 
second fiddle, and, of course, it wouldn’t do to ask 
Dru’s mother to make her another dress. I tell you 
frankly, Alma, I haven’t eaten a square meal in 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 241 


a month Fve been so worried over this operetta 
business.” 

“ Poor Rubber,” commiserated Alma, a light of 
amusement dawning in her eyes as she surveyed the 
other girl’s generous proportions. “ You do re- 
mind me somewhat of the ‘ lean and hungry Cas- 
sius.’ But I wouldn’t worry if I were you. You 
don’t look as if you would ‘ ghost away ’ as Sally 
puts it. Have some chocolates, or are you on the 
diet yet? ” 

“ No, indeed,” declared Catherine, a look of sat- 
isfaction spreading over her pudgy features at sight 
of the bon-bons, “ and I think it’s downright mean 
of Miss Hill to ask me to give ’em up. A girl’s 
got to have some pleasure in life, even if she is a 
perfect butter-ball, and chocolates are so comfort- 
ing.” She sighed happily, as she popped the lar- 
gest cream in the box into her mouth. “ But what 
are we to do about Drusie ? ” she demanded, after 
she had disposed of several dainties with marvelous 
speed. 

“ I wish,” began Alma thoughtfully, “ I wish 
she’d come and tell me about it herself. It would 
make it easier, and we might think up something 
together. But I’m afraid there’s not much chance 
of her telling any one. She’s such an independent 


242 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


little Freshie. I hate to think of her being unhappy 
on such a day.” 

It was characteristic of Alma that in her own 
joyousness she wanted it to be well with every one 
in the world, yet here she was in spite of the beauty 
of the morning which made her thrill with happi- 
ness face to face with another’s distress. All during 
the sunny morning hours in the back of her mind 
she was considering ways and means to help Dru- 
silla. Her thoughts were still busying themselves 
with the younger girl’s problem when she hurried 
back to her study after luncheon. 

“ I wish,” she said half-aloud, as she began gath- 
ering up her music preparatory to her hour of 
practising in the music-room, “ I wish — ” 

A timid little knock, which she instantly recog- 
nized, brought her flying to the door. Drusilla 
Evans stood there, and even while Alma was put- 
ting her arm about the thin little figure, and draw- 
ing her down beside her on the couch, she was 
noting sorrowfully that Drusilla’s face seemed 
smaller, whiter, more tired-looking than ever. 

“ Are you alone?” faltered Drusilla. “ Where 
— where is Harriet ? ” 

“ Taking her violin lesson in the small music- 
room; Harriet just adores her violin, and she’s only 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 243 


happy when it’s under her chin. Did you ever see 
such a change in a girl as in her when she’s play- 
ing,” babbled Alma, miserably conscious that in 
her nervousness she was trying to talk against time. 
“ And sometimes I think she’s almost pretty when 
she holds her violin as if she loved it.” Alma rat- 
tled on after an uncomfortable minute of silence. 
“ I just know she — ” but a grave little gesture 
from Drusilla silenced her. 

“ I came to tell you I can’t usher at the operetta,” 
the smaller girl said quietly. Only her interlacing 
fingers showed what an effort it was for her to con- 
fess it. “ But you know it already.” 

“ Yes,” admitted Alma honestly, “ but please, 
please don’t blame Rubber. It really was all my 
fault — ” 

“ I’m not blaming you or Rubber or any one.” 
The hopelessness in Drusilla’s tone brought an ache 
to Alma’s heart. “ And the man in the Express 
Office said that they’d try to hunt up my dress or 
else pay me for it, but it’ll take weeks, and it’ll all 
be too late. The operetta’ll be over.” 

“ Why won’t you let me — ? ” 

But the other interrupted with a proud emphasis. 
“ I wouldn’t borrow money if I was starving. 
Mother says pride is often all that the poor have, 


244 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


and rich people don’t want them to have even that. 
I came to ask you if you couldn’t think of some 
way we could get one of the other girls to usher 
without hurting her feelings.” 

“ Perhaps Jo wouldn’t care if — ” began Alma 
with half-shut, thoughtful eyes, but the next minute 
she demanded with a breathless earnestness, “ O 
Dru, isn’t there some way you can think of to earn 
the money? We’ve just set our hearts on having 
you usher.” 

The other shook her head sadly. “ I haven’t a 
ghost of a talent. The only thing I can do is to 
make flowers grow and mend and darn neatly. 
Mother often says I’d be a treasure for rich folks, 
I can patch so you can’t even find the torn place, 
and I can mend the finest kind of lace, but no one 
needs that here. If I could only do old water- 
coloring, and make place-cards and do pretty little 
heads and paint Easter-cards ! ” she sighed wist- 
fully. 

Before Alma could think of something comfort- 
ing to say there was a careless tap at the door, and 
almost simultaneously Harriet sauntered in. 

“ Oh, rubbish and raspberry jam,” she snapped, 
examining her blouse sleeve with an exasperated 
air, “ if I haven’t gone and torn this one, too. That 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 245 


makes the third accident I have had with my ‘ Peter 
Thompsons ’ this week, and I haven’t had a minute’s 
time to mend them, and won’t have. I’d give a 
small fortune if somebody ’d do some sewing for 
me right away quick.” 

Without even a second of hesitation Drusilla 
begged, “ Oh, Harriet, please let me do it. I just 
love to sew and mend.” 

Harriet opened her eyes innocently. “ Why, 
Dru, will you? You’ve saved my life. Come in 
the bed-room, and see all I’ve got to do. Every 
stocking I own is holey, and my sewing-basket’s 
piled almost to the ceiling. Perhaps you won’t 
want to do all that, though.” She turned inquir- 
ingly at the bed-room door. “ Besides, I need some 
new jabots, and at least two new mull sailor-col- 
lars.” 

“ What fun ! ” Drusilla clasped her hands ec- 
statically, her eyes almost black with excitement. 
“ I’ll just adore it. I’m never so happy as when I 
have a needle in my hand — unless it’s when I’m 
weeding in the garden,” she added with such a 
merry little laugh that Alma stared at her. 

“ I just believe I’ll put up a sign on my door, 
4 Sewing and Mending Done Neatly,’ ” declared 
Drusilla, appearing in the sitting-room again, her 


246 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


arms heaped with fluffy white lingerie and other 
articles of feminine wearing apparel. “ Perhaps 
the other girls would be glad to have me do it for 
them.” 

“ Glad ! ” repeated Alma, her face reflecting the 
other’s happiness, but Harriet interrupted crossly, 
“ You’ll be the most popular girl in school, but 
don’t you take in any other work until mine’s fin- 
ished. I need it just awfully. Oh, dear, that tooth 
I had filled at Christmas time’s started to ache 
again.” With a groan she threw herself face down- 
ward among the window-seat pillows. 

Drusilla lingered only long enough to telegraph 
Alma a message with her eyes, “ I can usher now 
at the operetta,” it read, and with a joyful little 
smile she closed the door behind her. 

“ Harriet Ward, you’re a perfect ducky dar- 
ling ! ” Alma burst out the instant they were alone. 
“ Dru’s new dress has got lost somehow and — ” 

“ I know,” interrupted Harriet, coming to a 
sitting position. “ I he^rd her tell you. I was 
lying on the bed,” she went on to explain in answer 
to the other’s look of surprise. “ I had to give 
up my violin lesson, my tooth was driving me 
nearly crazy. When Dru dropped in and began 
to tell you her troubles I was going to let you know 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 247 


I was there, but all of a sudden I happened to think 
maybe I could help out a little myself,” she wound 
up with a new and becoming shyness. 

“ Why, Harry,” Alma gazed at her in admira- 
tion, “ that was the most tactful thing I ever saw 
anybody do. I’m sure you fooled me. I thought 
you were perfectly wild to have some one do your 
mending.” 

“ I’m not awfully enthusiastic about sewing, you 
know,” laughed the other, “ but I knew it would 
be the only way to get her to take the money, so 
I cut off a few buttons while you were talking, and 
purposely caught my sleeve on a nail. I never saw 
anything so obstinate in all my life as that sleeve. 
It simply wouldn’t tear for the longest time.” 

“ Well, all I can say is you’re a perfect dear,” 
declared Alma tucking her music under her arm 
and dancing over to the door. 

“ Glad you think so. I’ll just curl up here, and 
see if a nap’ll help my tooth-ache. Go for a walk 
when your practising’s done? I’m getting to be 
a great out-doors girl, thanks to you.” 

“ Sure I will. I’ll get permission from Miss 
Wright for us to go without a chaperone on my 
way down from the music-room. It’s certainly 
improving your looks to be out-of-doors so much, 


248 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


and Alma eyed with a smile of satisfaction Har- 
riet’s cheeks, which had lost some of their sallow 
appearance and were taking on pretty curves and 
a soft bloom. 

By the time the two girls were ready for their 
walk a bank of clouds had begun to roll up in the 
west, and the sun shone only fitfully. But Alma 
was in the gayest of spirits as arm in arm with her 
room-mate she sped through the school-grounds. 

“ Oh, how sweet everything smells ! ” she thrilled. 
“If this fine weather only holds out till Friday, the 
‘ Wanderlust Club ’ can have a fine cross-country 
tramp. You positively must get rid of your tooth- 
ache before then, Harriet.” 

“ If I don’t I’ll be dead by that time,” groaned 
Harriet, standing still and pressing one finger hard 
against the throbbing gum. “ Um-m, how it’s 
jumping! ” 

“You poor child,” Alma’s voice quivered with 
sympathy. “ I only hope the air will do you good. 
Oh, look, there’s Patsy just coming out of the barn. 
Let’s take the old fellow for a run. Here, Patsy! 
Patsy ! Patsy ! ” 

Patsy dashed across the hockey-field as fast as 
his legs would carry him, and was frantic with 
delight at seeing his mistress again. He even in- 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 249 


eluded his mistress’ companion in his caresses, but 
Harriet, who was suffering the throes of an ulcer- 
ated tooth, kicked him away savagely. The little 
dog yelped with pain and shot madly down the 
path and out of the school-grounds. 

Instantly Alma was a-fire. Anger choked and 
blinded her, then she began to scream out passion- 
ate words. “ Hateful girl to kick a poor little dog! 
You’re horrid. You’re mean. You ought to be 
whipped. I — I — ” 

Sobbing brokenly, she tore after Patsy. Harriet 
looked after her uncertainly for a full second, then 
followed with flying feet. When she caught up 
with her, Alma’s cheeks were still wet with tears, 
and she had crushed her handkerchief into a small, 
hard, wet ball. Tucked under one arm she held 
the tired little dog. His red tongue was lolling out 
of his mouth, and he was panting for breath. 

“ I’m sorry,” Harriet mumbled when she was 
within earshot, but the other interrupted with trem- 
bling lips, “ O Harriet, I’m so, so ashamed of myself 
— and disappointed, too. I thought I was all over 
that,” she added in a half-whisper. She was so 
spent physically and emotionally that she leaned 
against a tree-trunk for support. “ Do you — 
do you believe I’m ever going to be able to keep 


250 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


my temper down ? ” Her eyes held a wistful 
look. 

“ Of course you will, Alma,” Harriet seized her 
hand and squeezed it. “ Why, you’re enough to 
make a cat laugh, worrying about your temper when 
I was beast enough to kick a decent little fellow like 
Patsy. Is — he all right? ” 

“ I guess you hurt his feelings more than any- 
thing,” Alma smiled in spite of the tears that slipped 
down her cheeks. “ Oh, look how black it is over 
there! I never noticed that ugly cloud before. I 
believe we’re in for a thunder-storm ! ” 

Even while she was speaking there was a low 
rumble of thunder, together with a flash of vivid 
lightning streaking the sky. 

“ O-oh ! ” Harriet breathed with white lips, “ I’m 
awfully scared of thunder-storms.” Involuntarily 
she crept closer to the other girl as if for protection. 
“ What shall we do? We can’t stay here. We’ll 
be struck dead.” 

“ I’m not so afraid of that as getting wet,” Alma’s 
eyes were fixed on the threatening black cloud. 
“ Maybe we can beat the rain if we sprint hard. 
Jennie Briggs lives about a quarter of a mile down 
the road at the left.” She flung this bit of informa- 
tion over her shoulder as she dashed ahead. All 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 251 


about was that perfect stillness which often precedes 
a storm. It seemed as if Nature were waiting with 
breath suspended for the oncoming struggle. Every 
now and then lightning leaped across the skies, 
and thunder cannonaded. 

The two girls had just reached the tumble-down 
shanty, which slumped dejectedly beneath a mag- 
nificent old chestnut tree, when the rain pounded 
down. The occupant of the cabin must have been 
watching at the solitary front window, for even 
before they dashed up the rickety old steps she had 
flung the door wide open. She had just closed the 
door behind them when there was a blinding light, 
a crash of thunder that almost deafened them, and 
a sturdy oak a few yards down the road fell victim 
to the fury of the storm. 

“ There’s only one rocker,” hospitably Jennie 
drew forward a dilapidated willow-rocker. “ Here’s 
a stool though. Maybe it won’t be too high.” 

In spite of her terror at the storm raging just 
outside the window Harriet gazed with curious 
eyes at her hostess. She was a starved looking girl 
of about their own age, with emaciated cheeks and 
hungry black eyes. The sudden darkness that had 
fallen could not hide the poverty of her surround- 
ings, nor the patched, faded, painfully short calico 


252 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


skirt and outworn waist which covered her body. 
But the darkness could not hide either the absolute 
cleanliness of the poor little room, nor the striking 
intellectual power in her thin face. 

“ You’ve been here before,” she said to Alma, 
who sat perched on the high stool, and was vainly 
trying to look at her ease. “ I remember you now. 
You came when the Wicks girls settled up.” Her 
voice was low and pleasing. “ It was that money 
that did it,” she added in a mechanical way. 

Alma’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“ My father took that money,” Jennie went on 
as if impelled to relieve her overburdened heart. 
“ He took everything — my clothes, the little fur- 
niture we had left when we came here — all that 
I could earn when I had to leave High School — 
he drank it all up. The money the Wicks girls 
brought killed him — the money killed him.” She 
repeated this in a monotonous tone like one trying 
to commit a lesson to memory, and apparently was 
unconscious of the horror in her listeners’ eyes. 

“ Do you live here all alone now? ” asked Alma. 
Impulsively she gathered Patsy closer to her. To 
live without companionship in this desolate-looking 
shanty — the very thought made little shivers of 
terror run up and down her spine. 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 253 


“ Um,” assented Jennie absently. She was 
standing at the rain-drenched window, watching 
the trees wrestle and writhe in the grip of the storm. 
“ The giant’s victor again,” she announced pres- 
ently in a tone of triumph. “ I always call my 
chestnut tree a giant, and I just love to see him 
fight that way, and come out without a scratch. 
He’s such company for me,” she turned dreamy, 
pensive eyes toward Alma. “ You’ve no idea the 
wonderful stories that old tree can tell, a different 
story for almost every day.” 

Alma nodded understandingly. The gift of 
sympathetic insight was hers, but Harriet stared 
in round-eyed wonder. 

“ At night the giant and I have splendid times 
together,” the low voice went on, “ and we dream 
lovely dreams and sometimes-when I get just dread- 
fully discouraged, and think there’ll be no more 
school for me, all I have to do is creep to the win- 
dow, and he heartens me right up.” 

“ Why can’t you go to school ? ” Alma asked 
impulsively. “ Do you want to ? ” 

“Want to?” repeated the other girl in so fierce 
a tone that her listeners quailed. “Want to? 
Haven’t I been eating my heart out wanting to 
ever since I had to leave school when pa sold the 


254 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


only decent dress I had, and my books, too? Oh, 
you don’t know how hard I’ve tried to earn enough 
so I could go back, but every time I’d get a few 
cents together and hide them he’d find them, and 
they’d go for drink. I’ve tried just every way to 
earn money — there aren’t many things I can do, 
and now he’s gone, and it doesn’t seem as if any- 
body would ever need me or want me to do any- 
thing again. I quit selling exercises and essays 
since that day you came. I guess I never thought 
much about it’s not being honest before.” For a 
full moment her eyes and Alma’s met in a gaze that 
kindled a sudden inextinguishable spark of friend- 
ship in either girl’s heart. “ I like you,” they told 
each other in sign-language, and involuntarily they 
smiled. 

“ Oh,” a rush of ideas brought Harriet, who had 
been apparently absorbed in her own thoughts for 
the past few minutes, up standing, “couldn’t you 
please let me help you ? ” She took a step toward 
Jennie Briggs. “ I’ve just loads of money of my 
own. I’m afraid that’s about all I have,” she added 
with an unsteady little laugh. “ You see, I’m all 
alone in the world just like you, only my father 
happened to leave me more money than I can 
ever use, and that’s a great pity my guardian 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 255 


says. Won't you please use some of my 
money? ” 

“ You mean it kindly, I’m sure,” began Jennie 
slowly, “ but I couldn’t take your money. I’m 
not asking for charity.” She threw up her head 
with a proud gesture that brought Drusilla’s words 
to Alma’s mind. “ Pride is often all the poor have 
and rich people don’t want them to have even that.” 

“ I want to earn money,” Jennie went on in a 
tense way. “I — ” 

“ You don’t understand,” interrupted Harriet 
with unusual eagerness, “ I don’t mean to give 
money in charity or anything of that kind. I mean 
sort of a scholarship. My guardian was talking 
to me one day last summer,” she went on excitedly, 
“ about the responsibility it’s going to be for me 
to do what’s right with all my money. I was cross 
and didn’t listen to half he said. I was ever so 
much more interested just then in teasing him for 
a pearl chain that I wanted, but I just remember 
his saying one thing I could do if I didn’t want an 
education myself was to give it to some girl who 
did and who was worthy of it. And he told me 
about an honor scholarship a friend of his had 
given to a college. Why, Alma Peabody,” she 
whirled about with scarlet cheeks and flashing eyes, 


256 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“isn’t it just too funny! It must have been that 
scholarship your father gave and Cordelia Everitt 
won. I never thought of it until just this minute.” 

“Yes, and then?” demanded Jennie with heav- 
ing bosom. 

“ Why, that’s all, except guardy said sometimes 
the girl who wins the scholarship wants to pass it 
on to some other girl when she can earn back the 
money.” 

“ I’d love that,” Jennie took a long breath before 
she answered, and her face glowed with happiness. 
“ I’d work my fingers to the bone to pay back every 
cent of the scholarship, and help some other girl 
along. Oh, I just ache to learn to be a teacher.” 
Abruptly she turned away toward the window, and 
Alma could see her lips move. She was pouring 
out her heart to her faithful old friend, the chest- 
nut-tree. “ The storm’s over,” she announced a 
few minutes later. “ You’ll have to go, I suppose. 
Will you ever come again? ” 

“ I’m going to tell Miss Wright about my plan 
the very first chance I get,” Harriet remarked as 
she followed Alma to the door. “ I’m sure she’ll 
like it — ” 

“ And let us come again,” Alma finished, offer- 
ing her hand. 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 257 


“ Good-bye,” Jennie said with a wistful little 
smile. She stood in the doorway as they tripped 
down the unsteady old steps. 

“ Auf wiedersehen,” Alma called back with a 
friendly little wave of her hand, and Jennie laughed 
as she repeated, “ Auf wiedersehen.” 

The clouds were shot through with April sun- 
shine, and the trees and bushes still dripped with 
rain as the two girls hurried down the road. All 
about them were a thousand enticing scents of a 
newly-washed world. 

“ I’m just wild to see Miss Wright, and tell her 
all about Jennie Briggs,” Harriet broke out en- 
thusiastically as she picked her way daintily down 
the muddy road. “ I know guardy will be ever so 
pleased with me.” The role of Lady Bountiful was 
wholly new to Harriet, and she was enjoying the 
fruits of her well-doing wholeheartedly in antici- 
pation. “ Won’t it be fine to go to High School 
some Commencement Day and see Jennie in a nice 
white dress and hear her give the valedictory or 
some speech, and then perhaps have her go on 
to college, and be a famous teacher? Why, she 
may teach at Hadley Hall some day ! ” 

“ Stranger things than that have happened,” 
agreed Alma with a sage nod. “ Father says this 


258 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


is the land of wonders, and I just believe Jennie 
Briggs will astonish us some day.” She gave 
Patsy an affectionate hug to emphasize her words. 

“ I’m so excited about it I just wish Miss Wright 
would go to see Jennie herself, and find out what 
a fine girl she is. I’m going to ask her if she’ll go 
with me to Jennie’s next Saturday afternoon.” 

“ Not Saturday,” Alma gave her a reproachful 
glance. “ You must change your mind, and come 
to Miss Randolph’s tea. I think it’s perfectly dar- 
ling of her to give a tea for the ‘ Snow-White ’ 
girls, and she’ll be ever so hurt if you stay away 
for no reason at all.” 

“ Guardy says I’ve got an awfully hard head 
that I inherited from my father, and I suppose it’s 
true. Anyhow, I started in wrong with Miss Ran- 
dolph that day on the train, and for the life of me 
I can’t make myself come ’round. Oh, dear, oh, 
dear, my tooth’s started again. Ouch, how it’s 
jumping! I simply can’t stand this pain.” 

“ Let’s hurry back,” suggested Alma pityingly, 

“ and perhaps Miss Morton can give you something 
to stop the ache.” 

They had just entered the school-grounds when 
a soft voice with an unmistakable Southern quality 
sounded close behind them. 


HARRIET PLAYS LADY BOUNTIFUL 259 


“ I’ve been trying to catch up with you two for 
the last five minutes,” Miss Randolph declared as 
she came abreast, “ but you insisted on running. 

I see I was not the only one who was tempted into 
forgetting how fickle April weather is. I had to 
beg shelter at a farm-house about two miles down 
the mill-road. Who offered you hospitality?” 

Before Alma could answer Miss Randolph turned 
to Harriet, her face vivid with sympathy. “ What 
is it, my dear? Didn’t I hear you groan? Tooth- 
ache? You poor child. Come to my room, and 
let me rub on something Aunt Chloe gave me. It’s 
cured many an unruly tooth for me.” 

Alma expected to hear a curt, ungracious re- 
fusal, but to her great surprise Harriet answered 
with a half-groan, half-sob, “ I’ll come right away.” 

When Miss Randolph’s door had closed upon 
her and her suffering protegee, Alma flew off to 
pour the astonishing events of the afternoon into 
Dorothy’s ear. 

The two room-mates did not have any further 
opportunity for confidences until they were getting 
ready for bed that night. 

“ Miss Randolph was ever so nice,” admitted 
Harriet as she pulled off her hair-ribbon, “ and 
almost the minute she put that hot-cold-burny stuff 


260 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


on my tooth, the ache was gone. And Miss Wright 
approves of the scholarship idea, and she’s going 
to see Jennie Briggs herself to-morrow afternoon, 
and she wants you and me to come along.” After 
a second’s hesitation, she added with deepening 
color, “ And Alma, I’m going to Miss Randolph’s 
tea Saturday, and she’s asked me to bring my vio- 
lin, and play some old plantation melodies.” 

“ W-well,” said Alma sleepily, “ but this has 
been a real mixy Aprily day; sunshine and rain 
and tears and smiles. But it’s all turned out just 
lovely. I guess it’s true, ‘ all’s well with the 
world.’ ” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE TOP DRESSER-DRAWER 

“You dig! you grind !” reproached Harriet, 
perching on Alma’s desk. “ You ought to be re- 
ported to the Self-Government Committee for 
wasting your recess on a day like this ! ” 

“ It is a shame to spend a minute of this glorious 
day in-doors,” assented Alma absently, as her eyes 
wandered to the open window. From her seat in 
the Assembly Room she could glimpse a square of 
unflecked blue sky, a flood of warm May sunshine 
and an apple-tree, which was one cloud of fairy 
snow. She could hear the ringing laughter and 
merry cries of the girls at play in the school- 
grounds, interspersed now and then with Patsy’s 
short, sharp barks. Involuntarily she sighed, then 
tearing her gaze away from the alluring scene, 
curled down over her book again. 

“ You sha’n’t study another minute,” Harriet 
pounced down upon her suddenly, and there was a 
brief struggle for possession of the book in which 
261 


262 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


the former was worsted. “ You’ve got to come out 
and play a game of tennis* We’ll have just enough 
time before the bell rings.” Then as Alma frowned 
and shook her head, she resorted to teasing, “ Do 
come. You know I’ve taken up tennis just to please 
you, and you mesmerized me into playing hockey 
and taking fencing-lessons, too.” 

“ Don’t, Harriet,” gloomed Alma. “ I’m per- 
fectly wild to play this morning, but I simply must 
read over that dreadful chapter on the bridge. It’s 
our last test before the finals, and I’m bound to get 
a good mark.” 

“ Rubbish and raspberry jam ! ” Harriet swung 
herself off the desk. “ You’re altogether too con- 
scientious. You’d pass if you didn’t open your 
Latin book again to-day. Besides, Caesar didn’t 
have any business to torment girls with that old 
bridge. I don’t see any sense to it anyhow. He 
just put it up, and tore it down again to show off, 
I- guess. Well, so long if you won’t come, I’ve a 
period to study in before the test, and I guess that’ll 
be more than I’ll need.” 

“ You’re surely coming to Latin class to-day,” 
Alma called after her a trifle anxiously. 

“ Sure thing,” Harriet answered over her shoul- 
der as she strolled off toward the tennis-court. 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


263 


But a habit of long-standing cannot be uprooted 
easily. When Harriet, some thirty minutes later, 
opened her Latin books with the firm resolution to 
devote the whole hour to a careful review in prep- 
aration for the test set for the last period of the 
morning she could not keep her mind or her eyes 
on the printed page. For a few moments she oc- 
cupied herself sketching Alma's clear profile on a 
page in her composition book, then her attention 
was drawn to a sparrow that sat meditating on a 
tree just outside the window. The whispered con- 
versation of the Moore twins whose desks were 
just behind hers distracted her when she was wa- 
ding through the opening sentence of that cen- 
tury-famed bugaboo, Caesar's description of the 
bridge. 

When the school-clock struck the half-hour she 
had made almost no progress. “ Mercy on me, 
.I’ve just got to get through this somehow," she 
groaned to herself, running her hands distractedly 
through her hair and kicking her slipper off and 
on nervously. The next two minutes she spent in 
settling herself into a more comfortable position, 
in propping up her books, sharpening up her lead- 
pencils and cleaning an eraser. “ There, I’m all 
ready for the test now," she told herself with a 


264 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


pleased air, “ all but reading over the Latin.” 
Presently she was seized with an inordinate desire 
for a drink. Leisurely she sauntered over to the 
“ bubble-fountain,” and managed to consume sev- 
eral minutes before her thirst was quenched. She 
had succeeded in translating two or three sentences 
to her own satisfaction when suddenly she raised 
her eyes pathetically and put her hands to her tem- 
ples. “ My head’s beginning to ache. I knew it 
would. It always acts that way when I’m boning 
for an exam.” 

The big hand of the clock pointed to the quarter 
before the hour when with a groan that could be 
heard throughout the entire room, Harriet gathered 
up her books, walked across the floor to Miss 
Wright’s desk, and with a mumble of “ Blinding 
headache — too sick to study — go to bed,” hur- 
ried into the corridor. 

“Where is Harriet?” asked Miss Randolph, 
when the Sophomore class assembled before her. 

There was no answer. Then Margarite Dunstan 
furnished the information with wide-open, baby 
eyes. “ She was in the study-hall part of the last 
period. She and Caesar have gone to the infir- 
mary.” 

The girls giggled, but Alma saw the teacher’s 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


265 


firmly compressed lips, and realized that the hour 
of retribution was approaching fast for her room- 
mate. 

The moment the gong sounded for dismissal 
Alma flew to the infirmary. Before she opened the 
door she knew what to expect. She was not dis- 
appointed. 

Harriet, lying back luxuriously among the pil- 
lows, a silken kimono over her lace-and-ribbon- 
trimmed night-gown and a dainty boudoir-cap on 
her head, looked the picture of ease and comfort. 
Alma knew that tucked away under the coverlet 
reposed a copy of the Gallic wars, which the invalid 
would digest at stolen intervals, in order to be pre- 
pared for the improvised test when Miss Randolph 
should choose to give it to her. 

“ O Harriet,” began Alma reproachfully. “ You 
promised — ” 

“ Please don’t talk so loud,” put in Harriet in 
a feeble tone. “ You make my head worse.” 

“ Oh, fudge,” Alma burst out. She looked down 
at her room-mate with wrathful eyes, possessed 
with a wild desire to shake her. “ You certainly 
don’t — ” 

The sound of footsteps approaching the infir- 
mary made her break off abruptly. The next instant 


266 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


voices were distinctly audible, and then the con- 
versation of the two persons who halted just out- 
side the door floated in over the open transom. In 
vain Alma looked about for some means of escape. 
There was only that door. She lingered uncer- 
tainly by the bedside, and the girls exchanged un- 
comfortable glances as they heard one voice which 
they recognized as the Latin teacher’s say, “ I’ve 
talked it over with Miss Wright, and she shares 
my opinion that something must be done and right 
away. So she’s given me carte blanche. All the 
year Harriet’s tried my patience by deliberately 
staying away from tests, and studying up for them 
at her leisure. It gives her an undue advantage, 
as you can see, Miss Morton, for, of course, she 
hears the other girls discuss the test-questions.” 

“ You’re quite sure it won’t hurt her,” came in 
the nurse’s pleasant voice. 

Lord bless you, child,” laughed Miss Randolph. 

It s a great remedy with the colored folk in the 
South when they’re ailing. I borrowed Aunt 
Chloe s quassia cup tl^e last time I was down at 
her cottage, and here it is all ready for your pa- 
tient. I fancy it will teach Miss Harriet not to 
‘ play possum ’ again.” 

The door opened and the nurse followed by Miss 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


267 


Randolph entered. Both girls had flushed, guilty 
faces. 

“ O Miss Randolph,” gasped Alma. “ I’m ever 
so sorry. I tried not to listen — ” 

“ I’ve prepared a dose for you, Harriet,” Miss 
Randolph seemed not to have heard Alma’s apol- 
ogy, but the roguish smile which quirked the cor- 
ners of her mouth, and the merry twinkle in Miss 
Morton’s eye, made the suspicion flash across the 
girl’s mind that the conversation just outside the 
door had been planned “ with malice aforethought.” 
She was about to slip unobtrusively from the room 
when the nurse demurred, “ No — don’t go, Alma. 
We may need you.” 

“ Please, please, Miss Morton. I don’t want any 
medicine,” Harriet burst out tearfully. “ My head- 
ache’s ever so much better already. The rest 
has — ” 

“ We’re afraid your headache may become 
chronic,” cut in Miss Randolph gravely, and then 
Miss Morton held the cup to her patient’s lips. 
Harriet grimaced and struggled, gasped and gulped, 
but between the three of them she was compelled 
to swallow the decoction which was bitterer than 
the proverbial gall. 

When Harriet, still sputtering from the dose and 


268 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


whimpering with rage and mortification, sank back 
against the pillows, at a sign from Miss Morton 
the Latin teacher drew Alma out of the room. 

“ Harriet’s headache will be gone, I fancy, when 
she wakes up from her nap,” declared Miss Ran- 
dolph, tucking the young girl’s arm in hers; then 
as they hurried toward the luncheon room, they fell 
to discussing summer plans. 

Back in the infirmary Harriet squirmed mentally 
and physically. She passed through various stages 
of fury, indignation, revenge, then her better self 
conquered, and she grew scarlet with shame. She 
did not even try to justify herself to the little voice 
within her inner consciousness which was saying 
over and over, “ You’ve been cheating — you’ve 
been cheating.” 

That lonely, unhappy afternoon in the infirmary 
marked a decided turn in Harriet’s mental life. 
Little by little she threw away all the shams with 
which she had been deliberately hoodwinking even 
herself, and stripped herself bare of deceit. If she 
had inherited a hard-headed, obstinate nature from 
her father, she had derived from the same source 
the ability to face a situation squarely and accept 
a defeat. 

“ I deserved it,” she told herself as she rang the 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


269 


bell for the nurse, “ I’m going to get up and dress 
and tell Miss Randolph I sha’n’t ever have that kind 
of a headache again.” 

So Harriet’s cure was effected. If it was not a 
permanent cure, at any rate she did not seek “ sanc- 
tuary ” again that year in the infirmary to escape 
a Latin examination. 

Then came days of pure delight when Hadley 
Hall fairly lived outdoors, days when the sun 
flooded the earth with glory and the sky was a 
melting blue, when wild-flowers danced in the 
breezes, and song-sparrows filled the air with mel- 
ody from every bush, tree, fence and wall. All 
too soon the end of May was at hand. 

One morning when the early sunlight was spark- 
ling on the grass and flower-beds, Alma and Doro- 
thy stole noiselessly into the gymnasium to practise 
with the foils before the day waxed hot. They 
were scheduled for a fencing-match in the gym- 
nasium exhibition which was to take place the last 
day of the month. They had already adjusted 
their face-masks and taken their foils from the 
racks, when the door was pushed open, and Harriet, 
sleepy-eyed, yawning and stretching, stumbled in. 

“ The heavens must be going to fall,” exclaimed 
Dorothy with a teasing smile, while Alma called 


270 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


out merrily, as she passed the foil over her head 
in a semi-circle, “ Why, Harriet Ward, I left you 
tucked up in bed, and good for another hour of 
sleep at least, I thought.” 

“ Talk of devotion and self-sacrifice,” laughed 
Harriet, rubbing the sands of sleep out of her eyes. 
“ ‘ The martyred maiden of Scotland ' wasn’t in 
it with me.” She flopped down on one of the mat- 
tresses which had been pulled against the wall out 
of the way. “ Here I gave up about sixty-five 
minutes of perfectly good sleep so you could have 
an audience, and you don’t either of you seem a 
mite grateful.” 

Alma and Dorothy laughed gleefully, then fell 
to work. They made a pretty picture as they faced 
each other in their trim fencing costumes, with a 
sunbeam playing upon their steel-blades and eager 
young faces. With a dexterity and grace that did 
credit to their fencing-master they saluted each 
other before engaging, took position, went on 
guard, lunged, attacked and parried. They were 
about evenly matched, and it was due perhaps to 
Alma’s stronger muscles and quicker eye that after 
five minutes of the vigorous exercise she succeeded 
in sending the foil flying from her opponent’s 
hand. 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


271 


“ Pretty work,” shouted Harriet from her mat- 
tress-seat. “ You’re in great form this morn- 
ing, Alma. Have a try with me when you’re 
rested ? ” 

Before Alma could answer, the gymnasium door 
swung open, and Miss Randolph advanced swiftly 
toward her, a letter in her hand. 

“ Miss Wright asked me to give you this, Alma. 
It came special just now.” 

“ It’s from father.” The pleased color ran in 
waves over her cheeks. She dropped down on 
the nearest mattress and devoted herself to her 
letter. 

“ O dearie me ! ” she exclaimed a moment later 
in a tone bordering close upon tears. “ Isn’t it just 
too bad ! Father’s been called home. Grandfather’s 
seriously ill, and now I’ll have to cross the ocean 
without father, and I’ve just been counting on that 
trip for months. He says he’s going to arrange 
with some grown-up to chaperone me, but I shall 
hate like anything traveling with a stranger.” 

“ O Alma, come with us,” cried Harriet eagerly. 
“ Don’t you remember, I told you yesterday 
guardy wrote he had to come to New York un- 
expectedly on business, and he’s going to take me 
back with him for the summer. He’ll be here in 


272 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


less than ten days now, and it’ll be great fun if we 
can go together.” 

Alma’s face brightened. “ That would be fine. 
I thought Mr. Ward was just the nicest man I 
ever met next to father and grandfather. I’ll write 
and ask father this minute. Will he get the letter 
in time do you think, Miss Randolph? He has to 
leave New York — ” she consulted the closely 
written sheet — “ to-morrow afternoon.” 

She glanced up into the Latin teacher’s face, and 
wondered what made her cheeks aflame, and why 
it took her a full second to answer, “ You’d better 
telegraph.” 

The words were hardly spoken before the girl 
had started toward the door. 

“ Oh, Alma, I thought you were going to fence 
with me,” began Harriet, when Miss Randolph cut 
in hurriedly, “ You’ll have plenty of time if you send 
the telegram after breakfast. I think you and 
Dorothy had better rest here a few minutes, then 
take your shower and dress.” Seeing the look of 
disappointment in Harriet’s face, she offered good- 
naturedly, “ Let me fence with you. I haven’t had 
a foil in my hand, though, since my Junior year at 
college.” 

“ You ought to have on rubber-soled shoes, Miss 


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273 


Randolph,” advised Dorothy, gazing with rapt eyes 
at the young teacher whom she openly adored. 
“ The floor’s a fright this morning.” 

“ Thanks for the warning, Dorothy. I’ll be care- 
ful not to slip.” 

Harriet, who had taken only a half-dozen lessons 
in fencing and was not an apt pupil at best, proved 
unusually awkward that morning, and several times 
allowed her opponent to disarm her. 

“ Your lunge is weak,” criticised Miss Randolph, 
when for the third time she had sent Harriet’s foil 
ringing across the floor. “ When you thrust, you 
should lunge forward firmly, so, with your right 
foot, and that gives your blow better force, you see.” 

Harriet’s pride was aroused. With a whirl of 
energy she picked up her foil, and made a swift 
attack. Neither she nor the teacher was very clear 
as to how it happened, and the two spectators on 
the mattress at that minute had their heads close 
together over Alma’s disquieting letter. But, some- 
how, Miss Randolph slipped as she attempted to 
parry, and the button on Harriet’s foil must have 
dropped, for the point of her foil pierced the teach- 
er’s side. Harriet screamed. The other girls 
dashed across the floor. 

“ It’s nothing — just a scratch,” came from Miss 


274 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Randolph’s ashy lips as they half-led, half-carried 
her to a mattress. 

Alma recovered her wits first. “ Get a glass of 
water, quick, Dee. Stop your crying, Harriet, and 
fly for Miss Morton. Ask her if you should ’phone 
for Dr. Carpenter.” 

Each minute seemed an hour to Alma, sitting on 
the edge of the mattress beside that white, still 
form. Once or twice Miss Randolph tried to speak 
words of encouragement to the frightened girl, but 
the sharp pain in her side from the wound which 
was slowly oozing blood made her set her teeth to 
keep from moaning. 

A sob of relief escaped Alma’s lips when she saw 
the nurse hurrying through the doorway. Miss 
Wright was just behind her. 

The Sophomore breakfast-table that morning was 
unusually quiet and solemn. The girls talked for 
the most part in whispers as if some tragedy had 
befallen the school, and often their eyes rested sig- 
nificantly, pitifully, on Harriet’s empty chair. In 
all their sympathy and anxiety for the well-being 
of the teacher who had established herself so firmly 
in their regard, they had nothing but kindly words 
for their absent class-mate. 

Miss Pillsbury, for the time being, occupied the 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 275 


head of the table, and did her best to interest the 
girls in some other topic of conversation. But it 
was not until Miss Wright appeared and announced 
that Miss Randolph was resting more easily that 
the tension was slightly relieved. Every face 
brightened when the principal added, “ Dr. Car- 
penter is of the opinion it’s nothing more than a 
flesh-wound. He bids me tell you to hope for the 
best. ,, 

“ Harriet, Harriet, have you heard what the 
doctor said?” cried Alma, pushing open the door 
with her foot, and carefully balancing a well-filled 
tray. “ Miss Wright said I was to, — Harriet, 
where are you ? ” 

But even before she had set the tray on the study- 
table, Harriet came racing in. Sobbing she threw 
herself down on the couch and buried her face in 
the cushions. 

“ I’ve brought you some breakfast,” Alma ven- 
tured as Harriet’s frame shook with the violence 
of her grief. “ You mustn’t cry so, you’ll make 
yourself sick. Dr. Carpenter thinks it’s nothing 
serious, at least — ” 

“ I just saw Miss Morton,” Harriet managed to 
gasp. “ She told me to have hope. But, oh, oh, 
oh.” She went off into another paroxysm. 


276 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ What is it? Tell me this instant.” Alma 
seated herself on the edge of the couch, and aston- 
ished herself with the firm hand she laid on her 
room-mate’s shoulder and the sternness of her tone. 
“ How in the world can any one help you when 
you act like a two-year old ? ” 

The scolding had the desired effect. Harriet 
took herself heroically in hand, and succeeded in 
stifling her sobs. After a minute or two she had 
so far recovered her self-control as to explain in 
a muffled voice, “ If I only knew what to do! If 
some one only would help me ! ” 

“ I can’t understand a word you’re saying,” ex- 
claimed Alma impatiently, “ Why don’t you take 
the pillows out of your mouth, and sit up and talk 
like a human being?” 

The other giggled hysterically, and encouraged 
by this small success, Alma went on severely, “ Of 
course I can’t help much, I suppose, but I know 
crying’s no use. I found that out years ago, and 
sometimes it does make things a little better if you 
talk matters over. Why, Harriet, you haven’t the 
faintest idea how much happier I’ve felt many and 
many a time when I confided my troubles to 
Elaine, and I’ve learned one awfully good thing 
from her, I can keep mum as an oyster. Did 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


277 


you ever notice, Elaine simply won’t repeat gos- 
sip?” 

There was one long second when Alma had secret 
fears that her room-mate was threatened with an- 
other avalanche of tears, but to her unspeakable 
relief, Harriet choked them back, and turned about 
on the couch so she could face her comforter. “ No, 
Elaine doesn’t tell secrets, and I know you don’t, 
either. I’d like to tell you a-about it, b-but I’m so 
afraid I’ll c-cry again.” 

“ You won’t. Grit your teeth, and clench your 
hands for a minute. There, now you’re all right. 
Fire ahead.” 

By piecemeal, and punctuated with long, gasping 
breaths, she told her story. “ I simply couldn’t sit 
still after you went down to breakfast, so I ran 
back to the infirmary again. Miss Morton found 
me peeking through the key-hole, and she was ever 
so nice and comforting. She said Miss Randolph 
was resting nicely, and asked me if I would do her 
a favor.” She paused an instant, and Alma 
prompted, “ Yes, and then?” 

“ I said of course, and she told me Miss Ran- 
dolph had been worrying because she didn’t have 
her locket on. You know the one she always wears. 
Oh, don’t you remember that awful day when I 


278 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


wore all those lockets to class, and put my hand on 
them the way she always does? O Alma, what 
shall I do if she doesn’t get better? ” 

It required both tact and patience dn Alma’s part 
to help her friend recover her composure. “ And 
did you find the locket ? ” 

Harriet nodded with tear-filled eyes. “ It’s the 
locket that’s broken my heart. It was up in the 
gym. It must have dropped off when — when the 
accident happened. It was open, and there was a 
man’s picture in it.” She covered her face with 
both hands. 

Alma shook her wrathfully. “ You’re a perfect 
goose. I don’t see why your heart should be broken 
just because there was a man’s picture in her locket. 
It may be her brother’s or her father’s or — ” 

“ It isn’t,” Harriet wailed. 

“ Well, in the name of goodness, whose is it 
then? ” 

“ My guardian’s.” 

For the moment words failed Alma. She leaned 
back limply against the cushions. Any number of 
hitherto perplexing things began to grow clear. 
Now she had a glimmer of an idea why Miss Ran- 
dolph showed confusion that first morning at the 
breakfast-table. Now the reason for the Latin 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


279 


teacher’s unusual kindness and patience with Har- 
riet’s waywardness dawned upon her, and she un- 
derstood, too, why the teacher’s color had height- 
ened when she and Harriet had chanced to mention 
Mr. Ward just before the accident. It was all 
simple as daylight. It was a love-story, and — 

“ But that isn’t the worst of it,” Harriet’s tearful 
voice shattered the dream-house Alma’s romantic 
soul had instantly reared for Miss Randolph. “ I’m 
to blame for it all.” 

“You!” Alma stared at her in surprise. 

“ It’s there,” Harriet waved her hand. “ In the 
top dresser-drawer.” In spite of her genuine dis- 
tress she could not keep herself from enjoying the 
important role she was playing. 

“ This has all been too much for you, Harry,” 
began Alma soothingly. “ You’re going out of 
your head — ” 

“ No, I’m not. I mean it,” persisted Harriet, 
“and I’m the most miserable wretch, the worst 
fiend in the world.” 

Alma settled back with the air of a martyr to 
wait till this spasm of self-reviling passed. 

“ It all happened so long ago,” came in a rem- 
iniscent sigh. “ It was last summer, you know, 
when guardy came back, and praised you to the 


280 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


skies, and told me he had decided to send me here. 
I was furious with him, and acted pretty disagree- 
able, I expect. I told him flatly I wouldn’t come, 
and talked in a way I never like to remember, and 
he sent me to my room till I was ready to apologize. 

“ After a while he went out for a walk, and I 
saw the post-man coming, and I flew downstairs, 
and got the mail. There was just one letter, and 
that was for guardy. I don’t know how it popped 
into my head, but to get even I took it upstairs, 
meaning to give it to him next day. But he kept 
insisting on my coming here, and I kept getting 
madder and madder, and so it went on for days and 
days, and then I was afraid to give it to him, he’d 
be so angry.” 

To rouse her from the unhappy memories she 
was living over, Alma touched her arm. “ Did 
you know who wrote the letter ? ” 

Harriet flushed. “ I knew guardy was in love 
with some girl from the South, and was expecting 
to marry her. I heard our housekeeper tell cook 
all about it one night, and this letter was post- 
marked ‘ Atlanta, Georgia,’ and, of course, I was 
sure it was from her. Guardy didn’t say anything 
to me about it except one night out in the garden. 
It was moonlight — ” 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


281 


“ How romantic ! ” breathed Alma. 

“ It was moonlight,” Harriet went on in a dreamy 
tone, “ just the night for a love story. But all 
guardy said was he hoped to have a home of his 
own some day, and I was to live with him. He 
never said anything more about it, and then he had 
to go back abroad suddenly. And he looked just 
terribly sad.” 

“And then — ?” Alma was hanging on the 
other’s every word. 

“ Why, that’s all.” 

“ All ! ” repeated Alma, sitting bolt upright, and 
gazing at her room-mate with startled eyes. “ Why, 
Harriet Ward, do you mean you never gave that 
letter to your guardian ? ” 

Harriet nodded with a fresh burst of tears. 

“ And you’ve kept it all those months in that 
top dresser-drawer? Why, how perfectly dread- 
ful!” 

“ I don’t need you to tell me that,” sobbed Har- 
riet. “ It’s been a perfect ‘ old man of the sea.’ 
I haven’t dared tear it up or burn it, and I’ve had 
to take it wherever I went, and oh, dear ! oh, dear ! 
I’m the most miserable girl in all the world ! ” 

“ No, indeed you aren’t,” objected Alma ener- 
getically. “ I don’t believe you realize how per- 


282 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


fectly wonderful and thrilling it all is. Why, it’s 
more exciting than any book I ever read. Just to 
think of your separating lovers and bringing them 
together again.” 

The other girl’s face brightened, then a sudden 
thought made her disconsolate again. “ I don’t 
just see how I’m going to bring them together 
again. I — ” 

“ That’s easy,” scorned Alma. “ Just the first 
minute Miss Morton lets you into the infirmary, 
you ’fess up to Miss Randolph, and show her the 
letter, and then when Mr. Ward comes here to get 
you, he’ll wait for you in the reception-room, and 
instead she’ll come in, and at first he’ll be struck 
dumb, then they’ll talk, and the dark clouds’ll clear 
away, and there’ll be sunshine and blue skies for- 
ever for the reunited lovers.” The dramatic possi- 
bilities of the situation had stirred Alma’s imagina- 
tion, and in fancy she was already arranging the 
details of a most touching love-scene. 

“ Oh, no,” Harriet shivered. “ I couldn’t tell 
her. I never intended to tell anybody about that 
letter, but I couldn’t keep it all to myself. Prom- 
ise,” she clutched her companion’s arm, “ promise 
on your word of honor you won’t breathe a word 
of it to a soul.” 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


283 


“ You’re pinching me black and blue,” Alma 
threw off her hands impatiently. Why would Har- 
riet insist on spoiling the only romance she had 
ever seen at close range ! Especially when it prom- 
ised almost as much in the way of thrills as the 
balcony-scene in which she had heard Romeo and 
Juliet proclaim their immortal love only the week 
before. “ Of course I’m not going to tell, but 
surely you’ll give the letter to your guardian. It 
belongs to him, and it really is — ” 

“ Stealing,” wailed Harriet. “ I know it, and I’ve 
told myself that hundreds of times, and called my- 
self names, but I just can’t. I just can’t.” 

Long, silent sobs shook her from head to foot, 
and Alma wisely held her peace. 

“ Wasn’t I a stupid,” demanded Harriet when 
she was quieter again, “ not to put two-and-two 
together? It never occurred to me that Miss Ran- 
dolph wrote that letter. Once or twice her writing 
looked a little familiar to me, but I never thought 
anything of that.” 

“ And she comes from Atlanta, too,” put in the 
black-eyed girl thoughtfully. “ And that was the 
reason you didn’t like her,” she added with a sud- 
den intuitive knowledge. 

Her room-mate nodded. “ I hated everybody 


284 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


and everything in the South, and the whole city 
of Atlanta. Oh, dear, if she only gets well! Do 
you — do you suppose she’s any worse ? ” 

Impulsively she started up from the couch, and 
before Alma could prevent was on her way to the 
infirmary again. Slowly the curious day wore away 
with its alternate flashes of hope and despair. Alma 
tried to persuade Harriet to spend the afternoon 
in the woods with the “ Wander-Lust ” Club, but 
failed, and generously gave up the eagerly antici- 
pated excursion to devote herself to her disconso- 
late room-mate. It was a trying time for both. 
Alma by turns cheered, scolded, argued with Har- 
riet. Nightfall found them both worn out, but 
firmly intrenched in their original positions. Alma 
had labored in vain to convince the other it was 
her duty to hand over the letter to her guardian. 

Long before the retiring-bell rang that night they 
had tucked themselves up in bed. A disquieting 
report had somehow found its way out of the in- 
firmary : Miss Randolph was threatened with a 
fever. Yet in spite of the anxiety and excitement 
which the day had brought, Alma’s head hardly 
touched the pillow before her healthy young nature 
reasserted itself. She was almost asleep when Har- 
riet’s stifled voice called her back. 


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285 


“ Don’t forget to wish on the first star for — 
her, will you, Alma ? ” 

“ N-no,” came in a drowsy murmur from across 
the room. Alma had been asleep hardly a moment 
she thought when suddenly she was wide awake. A 
full-faced, silver moon was peeking in at her win- 
dow, and she lay still, enjoying the wonder and 
mystery of its beauty. Little by little the moon- 
light traveled across the floor, and she followed 
its silvery trail till it fell full on the little bed against 
the opposite wall. What she saw there brought 
her up with a scramble. Silent as a shadow she 
flew to the window, and looked out. The outdoor 
world slept, saturated with moonlight, and every 
tree, bush and flower-bed was etched with a won- 
derful sharpness. But her gaze had leaped to the 
picket-fence which separated August’s vegetable- 
garden from the barn at the rear of Hadley Hall’s 
grounds. Something white on top of the gate 
riveted her attention. 

“ I just knew I’d find her there,” she told her- 
self. It took her but a minute to throw on a kimono, 
and step into her bed-room slippers. “ I guess what 
she said about wishing just before we went to sleep 
put it into my head. Besides, I remember now, she 
was asking Robin Redbreast about the wishing- 


286 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


gate after dinner to-night. How we all laughed 
at the way Robin was stringing her ! ” 

She felt very adventuresome and important and 
not the least bit frightened as she flitted across the 
grass under a star-studded sky. “ It's almost as 
bright as day/’ her thoughts ran on, and for a wild 
instant she wished she could roam at will over the 
moon-lit world. Not a sound broke the stillness, 
and she came on so fairy-footed that she was close 
beside the gate before Harriet saw or heard her. 
Alma expected her room-mate would shriek with 
terror and alarm the whole school. To her sur- 
prise Harriet looked at her quietly, evincing not 
the slightest astonishment. “ It’s so beautiful and 
peaceful here,” she breathed after a minute’s silence. 
“ Everything seems so different, I’ve been thinking 
and thinking and wishing — and praying.” 

She held out her hand, and with Alma’s aid 
jumped to her feet. Her eyes were shining with 
an unusual light, and there was a new softness to 
her expression. “ It was hard work for me to climb 
on that gate,” she said simply, “ and it was harder 
work for me to stick on. And it was just that 
way with my thinking. But I know things now I 
never did before and to-morrow morning I’m going 
to write to my guardian — and send him Miss 


THE TOP DRESSER - DRAWER 


287 


Randolph’s letter. If she gets well, and being out 
here has made me feel she’s going to, I’ll know what 
it means not to have a load here,” she put her hand 
on her heart, “ for the first time for almost a year, 
and — and — I don’t know how to say it so you’ll 
understand but it’s you, it’s what you’ve said and 
done and been that’s made me want to do the hon- 
est thing.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 

In the opinion of Alma and Harriet Miss Ran- 
dolph behaved as a well-regulated heroine should, 
and developed no untoward symptoms. As soon as 
she was allowed to receive visitors she sent for 
Harriet, and that interview furnished the two room- 
mates with material for conversation till the end 
of the year. After deep deliberation they decided 
to share the wonderful secret with Dorothy, and 
her interest was great enough to satisfy even their 
exacting demands. Then they waited anxiously 
for startling developments, but day after day went 
by, and nothing happened. Miss Randolph took 
her place at her desk again, and the trio’s keen, 
watchful eyes could not discover any change in her 
face or manner, unless it was that her eyes had lost 
their wistful gleam, and her smile was more fre- 
quent. 

Nor did the eagerly anticipated letter from Mr. 
Ward come to Harriet. Whenever mail was dis- 
288 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 289 


tributed, she waited with a little leap of the heart 
for a glimpse of that large, firm handwriting. Each 
time she turned away disappointed. 

Yet in spite of the trio’s tense nerves and distress 
over their inability to help matters culminate, the 
hours flitted by and the end of the school-year was 
upon them before they could realize it. There were 
so many things to be done, and suddenly the days 
seemed provokingly short. There were long ram- 
bles that they had to take to bid their favorite haunts 
farewell over the summer; there were the row- 
boats and canoes calling them to while away their 
recreation time on the smooth surface of the Had- 
ley stream. There were long confidential talks to 
be held before Vacation should separate friends and 
chums, and most important of all, there were the 
finals to study for, and conquer. 

“No letter again,” announced Harriet in a tragic 
tone, entering her study one pleasant afternoon in 
early June. Alma wheeled about from the glass. 
She was looking very fresh and blossomy in her 
white linen frock and hat. “ Why, why doesn’t 
he write or telegraph or do something! I’ve just 
abolit given up hope.” 

“ Maybe he doesn’t care any more,” the dark 
possibility made Alma look anxious. 


290 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ Of course he cares, goosie,” laughed Dorothy, 
coming in just in time to hear the last gloomy re- 
mark. “ His letter’s been delayed or they’ve for- 
gotten to deliver the telegram or something or 
other’s happened. Things’ll turn out all right, I’m 
sure. They’ve just got to, but let’s not waste a 
minute of our afternoon. I’ve at least a thousand 
things to buy in town. Isn’t it just perfectly dar- 
ling of Miss Randolph to take us three? I was 
simply praying she’d chaperone us.” 

“ I don’t see why I don’t get an answer from 
father,” Alma declared, as the three almost tum- 
bled down the stairs in their haste not to keep their 
chaperone waiting. “ He hasn’t told me yet if I 
can go with Mr. Ward and Harriet. I’m begin- 
ning to be worried.” 

But the pleasant motor trip to the city and the 
interest of flitting from shop to shop to make neces- 
sary and some unnecessary purchases dispelled all 
worries for the time being. 

“ I’ve come to the end of my shopping-list.” 
With a thankful sigh Dorothy sank down on a stool 
in a glove-shop, and waited for Alma and Harriet 
to make their selections from the attractive display 
of gloves. 

“ This is my last, praise goodness,” Harriet 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 291 


smiled with satisfaction as she extended her hand 
to be fitted. 

“ Then Alma and I will leave you while you’re 
having your hair shampooed, and go to the shoe- 
shop. Did you say you want to get one or two 
pairs of slippers? I must have a pair, too.” 

The chaperone and Alma were less than a half- 
dozen yards away from the shoe-shop when it hap- 
pened. They were just discussing animatedly the 
respective merits of “ pumps ” and “ ties ” when a 
tall, good-looking man carrying a traveling-bag 
rounded the corner hurriedly, and ran straight into 
them. 

“ I beg your pardon,” he raised his hat, and 
then — It was the greatest disappointment in 
Alma’s life. Just what she expected them to do 
or say she wasn’t sure, but anyhow they didn’t do 
it. They merely shook hands with at least an out- 
ward show of calm, and both said quietly, “ How 
are you ? ” Then he greeted Alma. 

They stood still long enough for Miss Randolph 
to explain what the present errand was, and al- 
though she did not invite him to accompany them 
(it’s just possible her eyes did), he seemed to take 
that for granted, and followed them into the shoe- 
shop. 


292 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


How Alma made her selection she didn’t know. 
She was too excited to pay any attention to the 
box after box of slippers the attentive shoe-clerk 
brought down from the shelves. Thrills were run- 
ning up and down her spine, and the blood was 
dancing through her veins. She was right in the 
midst of a love-story, and that was far more in- 
teresting than shoes. 

The rest of the afternoon passed like a brilliant 
dream. There was the affecting moment when 
Harriet and her guardian met, there was a delight- 
ful half-hour in a Japanese tea-room when every- 
body seemed to be in the merriest of spirits, and 
enjoyed what they ate and drank as if it had been 
genuine nectar and ambrosia, and then came the 
wonderful ride home in the soft June dusk, just 
as a thin silver slip oi a moon was showing itself 
above the tree-tops. 

Alma and Dorothy were on the qui vive when a 
couple of hours after dinner Katie came for Har- 
riet. Her guardian was waiting for her in the 
drawing-room. 

“ I do hope he’ll forgive her,” Alma said nerv- 
ously for the hundredth time. “ She’s sorry for 
what she did with all her heart.” 

“ Well,” Dorothy clasped her hands over her 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 293 


knee, and settled forward in a thoughtful attitude, 
“ if he’s half so nice as you seem to think, and I 
suppose he must be or Miss Randolph wouldn’t 
care for him — ” 

“ He’s simply fine,” championed Alma. 

“ Maybe he is, but not half fine enough for 
her,” Dorothy grumbled. “ I was going to say 
when you interrupted so rudely, if he’s so aw- 
fully nice, he’ll see how bad Harriet feels and 
how much she’s improved since he last saw 
her.” 

Time hung heavy until Harriet raced in, cheeks 
scarlet, eyes bright as any two stars. 

“ He’s been simply grand. Everything’s all 
right, and settled, and they’re not a bit cross with 
me, though I should think they’d like to take my 
head off. And guardy’s got to go to California for 
a month on business, and the minute he gets back, 
he’s going to take me to Atlanta, and I’m to be 
bridesmaid, and when they come back from their 
honey-moon I’m to go with them on a long motor 
trip and — and it’s all perfectly wonderful, only 
I’m awfully disappointed we can’t go abroad to- 
gether.” 

“ I wonder who is going to take me,” queried 
Alma. 


294 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


Her answer came the next morning. The first 
mail brought her a letter from her father. 

“ Dearest Comrade/’ her eyes took in the first 
page at a glance, “ when your letter reached me 
I had already concluded arrangements with a lady 
and her daughter to take you in charge. I think 
you’ll find them estimable people.” Involuntarily 
her brows came together in a frown. Estimable 
people ! How she hated that expression, and always 
had since it had been constantly on the lips of a 
detested governess in the first wretched days after 
her mother’s death. Then she remembered how it 
amused her father because she always grimaced at 
that word. He had undoubtedly written it to tease 
her. Estimable people indeed, she took an instant 
dislike to them, and for the moment let her fancy 
run riot in picturing a fussy, disagreeable, bespec- 
tacled old lady with an even more fussy old-maid 
daughter. Whereupon she shook herself resolutely. 
“ How perfectly absurd, Alma Peabody ! ” and read 
her letter to the end, then over again, once, twice, 
and again. 

Harriet burst in a few minutes later, and Alma 
communicated the news, with a good show of cheer 
she thought, until her room-mate threw a comfort- 
ing arm about her and said, “ They may not be half 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 295 


as bad as you expect, and, anyhow, the trip won’t 
last forever, you know. When are they coming 
for you? ” 

“ Some time to-morrow, father wrote.” In spite 
of her brave efforts she could not prevent the dull- 
ness of her tone nor the curious sinking of her heart. 
“ The mother was coming alone for me at first, 
and we were to meet the daughter in New York, 
but father thought it would be a pleasant arrange- 
ment for us all if we started together from here.” 

Dorothy poked her head in the door to ask the 
loan of a ball of cord, and noting signs of distress 
in her friend’s face, demanded to be informed of 
the cause at once. “ I declare it’s a shame, honey- 
child,” she burst out, “ I don’t mean having to travel 
with strangers. You’re used to them, I know, but 
it’ll just spoil everything if you have to leave be- 
fore Commencement week, and think of the good 
times we planned to have together.” 

“ I know,” Alma shook her head dolefully, “ but 
he says they’ll be here to-morrow, and they’ll prob- 
ably want to go right off. I don’t suppose they’d 
be a bit interested in Commencement.” There was 
a gleam of hope in her eye. 

“ You never can tell,” remarked Dorothy sagely. 
“ Who are they, and what’s their name? ” 


296 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ I — I didn’t notice,” Alma pulled the letter out 
of her belt. Dorothy’s sharp eyes noticed the effort 
she was making to speak cheerfully. “ Why, isn’t 
that funny? He doesn’t say. He must have for- 
gotten,” she added in quick defense. 

“ How in the world will you know what to call 
them ? ” began Harriet, but the dramatic appear- 
ance of the Moore twins, who had entered by way 
of the windows, saved Alma from answering. 

That afternoon she began to pack. In vain one 
after another of the girls besieged her in her for- 
tress. She adhered steadfastly to her purpose, 
though she ached with longing to join the Sopho- 
more Class in their annual canoe-trip to Echo Lake. 
For a few moments she stood at the window waving 
her handkerchief until the last canoe in the gleam- 
ing line had disappeared around a bend in the 
stream. She could still feel Dorothy’s bearish hug 
as she scolded, grumbled and comforted her all in 
a breath. She could still hear the hearty remark 
with which her room-mate had taken leave, “ Half 
the good time will be spoiled, Alma, because you 
aren’t coming along.” A smile came to her lips 
as she let her thoughts range back over the school- 
year. “ It’s been a mighty pleasant year,” she told 
herself, “ and one of the nicest things about it is 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 297 


the way Harriet’s changed. She really isn’t a bit 
like the girl she was when she first came here. Even 
Dee admits that, and I believe it’s going to make 
all the difference in the world to her if she makes 
her home with Mr. Ward after he’s married. No 
one knows how happy it makes a girl feel to have 
somebody to love. Of course she won’t have a 
somebody like mine. Oh, dear father,” she ad- 
dressed him mentally, “ you know I always like 
everything you do for me, but I’m so afraid trav- 
eling with those people is going to be a horrid end- 
ing to a nice year.” 

Then she rated herself soundly for her misgiv- 
ings, and whirling around, flew over to her trunk, 
which occupied the center of the floor. After roll- 
ing up her sleeves and pulling out the shield of her 
blouse so she could pack in greater comfort, she 
began to bustle about, opening dresser-drawers, 
taking down books from the shelves and emptying 
closet and boxes. She was on her knees folding 
garments and laying them away neatly in the trays 
when a quick rat-a-tat-tat sounded on the door. 
She was so cramped from kneeling it took her a 
full second to get on her feet. She cast a disap- 
proving glance about the disorderly room with its 
chaos of hats, gowns, lingerie, books and shoes, and 


298 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


caught a glimpse of her own disheveled self in the 
mirror as she ran to open the door. By this time 
the knocking had grown into a veritable pound- 
ing. 

“ Why, Sally Drew, what in the world have you 
been up to? ” demanded Alma, pushing back a lock 
of hair from her hot forehead with one grimy fore- 
finger. She leaned against the door-frame, regard- 
ing her small visitor with dancing eyes. 

For answer Sally took a few steps down the cor- 
ridor, viewing over her shoulder her spreading 
train. “ I just borrowed Dee’s party-dress,” she 
confessed nonchalantly, at the same time pressing 
her cousin’s flower-trimmed lace hat more firmly on 
her curly head. Dorothy’s hat would persist in 
settling down over the present wearer’s ears. 

“ Don’t you think I look real flossy in a low- 
necked gown ? ” questioned Sally modestly. She 
was preening herself like a small peacock, and 
stretching out her neck to keep the gown from 
slipping completely off her shoulders. 

For a minute Alma gave way to silent laughter, 
then seeing the growing indignation in the childish 
face, controlled herself sufficiently to say, “ You’re 
a perfect picture, Sally. But does Dee know you — 
you borrowed her clothes ? ” 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 299 


“ No,” confessed Sally with downcast head, “ but 
I don’t think she’d care if I put them all back very, 
very nicely. Besides, I just had to. I’ve never had 
a low-necked gown on before. The boys would 
tease me so, and oh, you don’t know how I’ve 
wanted a trail,” she clasped her hands fervently. 
“ Once I put on cook’s hat and her apron hindside 
fore, and tried walking up and down before the 
drawing-room mirror, but Tom spied me and he 
teased me half to death, and then he did the mean- 
est thing.” Her eyes sparkled with indignation. 
“ He saw some very special company coming up 
the garden-walk, and he kept me prisoner there till 
they came in the room, and I was ’shamed dread- 
fully the way they laughed at me. I must be going 
now, I’m on my way to see Lucy Wicks. I thought 
maybe you’d like to see how pretty I look,” she 
wound up naively. 

Alma was in the midst of her packing again when 
the door burst open, and Sally came flying in, her 
skirts caught up to her knees in one hand, her hat 
hanging askew over her ear. 

“ Some ladies for you — in the reception-room,” 
she began breathlessly, and Alma started to her feet 
in dismay, scattering piles of snowy undergarments 
to the right and left in her haste. 


300 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


“ For me?” she stammered. “Who are they? 
What do they look like? Why, they weren’t com- 
ing until to-morrow.” 

“ Don’t know who they are,” Sally settled herself 
in a picturesque attitude on the foot of the bed and 
gravely watched operations while Alma made a 
hurried toilet. “ Lu Wicks wasn’t in her room, 
and I went downstairs to that mirror in the recep- 
tion-room. It’s such a nice mirror,” she sighed 
with satisfaction, “ you can see the back of your 
dress and — ” 

“ Never mind the mirror,” spluttered Alma im- 
patiently from the depths of the wash-bowl. “ Go 
on about the ladies.” 

“ I was,” Sally flashed her an injured look, “ and 
then they came in, but I didn’t hear ’em. I was 
just kicking out my trail and — • ” 

“ What did they say to you ? ” Alma tried to 
keep the small person to the subject-in-hand. She 
was polishing her face vigorously with a towel, and 
wondering why the ladies had come a day sooner 
than her father had written, and just what she 
should say when she entered the room. 

They didn’t say a thing,” Sally fluffed out a 
skirt-flounce, and settled her hat on her head. “ I 
lit out the window the minute I saw them, but I 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 301 


heard them ask Katie for you, and I met Katie in 
the hall and said Fd tell you.” 

“ Are they — pleasant-looking ladies ? Do they 
seem kind of young? ” 

“ They’re real cross-looking and they aren’t a 
bit young. Why, I think they’re old, awful old,” 
Sally responded airily. “ Lots older than my 
mother.” 

“ Both of them ? ” Alma’s voice rose almost to a 
shriek. 

“ Yes, both of them,” Sally was always quick to 
follow up an opportunity. She had not been an 
observer of her brother Tom’s methods some twelve 
years for naught. “ Why, one of them must be 
lots older than my grandmother, and — ” 

“ Do they wear spectacles and frumpy old black 
dresses ? ” with the calmness of despair. 

“ Yes,” Sally squeezed her eyes shut, and bor- 
rowed a detail or two from the costume of a 
washer-lady who was a recent acquisition in the 
family, “ and floppy shoes and long black veils 
hanging down their backs. I guess they’re both 
widows.” 

Every bit of courage had oozed out of Alma by 
the time she reached the staircase. She went down 
as deliberately as possible, child-fashion, one step 


302 


ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 


at a time. On the lowest step she stood still for 
a moment. Her heart was pounding so loudly she 
was afraid it could be heard on the other side of 
the velvet portieres. Involuntarily she closed her 
eyes for an instant, and tried desperately to re- 
cover her self-possession. The next minute the 
portieres were thrust apart, a slender figure all in 
gray crossed the hall with wonderful speed, and as 
they flew into each other’s arms, Alma had only 
strength left to murmur, “ Cordelia, Cordelia Ever- 
itt ! Is it really you ? ” 

Alma was usually very quick-witted, but it took 
several minutes before she could be made to realize 
that she was not dreaming a pleasant dream from 
which she would wake all too soon, and that she 
was actually gazing into Cordelia’s shining gray 
eyes. But when she had responded to Mrs. Ever- 
itt’s warm greeting and that lady began to discuss 
plans for the ocean trip, it was too much for her. 
Limply she sank down in an easy-chair. “ But 
where are those two awful old fussy ladies I 
thought I was going with ? ” 

“ Mother and I are awfully flattered at the de- 
scription,” laughed Cordelia. “ It fits us exactly. 
Who told you about us? That small person I saw 
parading before the mirror? I hope to get ac- 


THE CHAPERONE’S DAUGHTER 303 


quainted with her during Commencement week, and 
pay her back — ■. ” 

“ Commencement week ! ” gasped Alma, sitting . 
very erect. 

Cordelia nodded. “ Your father thought it 
would be pleasant for both of us to be together 
again Commencement week, so I left college a day 
or two earlier and here we are.” 

For a moment Alma could only stare, then she 
fairly threw herself upon her friend. “ Oh, dear,” 
she was half-laughing, half-crying, “ isn’t this the 
loveliest old world you ever lived in? It’s too per- 
fectly splendid to believe. I’ve had such a nice 
Sophomore year, but the way it’s ending is the best 
part of it all.” 


THE END. 
















BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS 

(Trade Mark) 

By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 
Each 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated, per vol. . $1.50 

THE LITTLE COLONEL STORIES 

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Being three “ Little Colonel ” stories in the Cosy Comer 
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THE LITTLE COLONEL’S HOUSE PARTY 

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RIDING 

MARY WARE: THE LITTLE COLONEL’S 

CHUM (Trade Mark) 

MARY WARE IN TEXAS 
MARY WARE’S PROMISED LAND 

These 12 volumes , boxed as a set, $18.00. 

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THE LITTLE COLONEL 

(Trade Mark)j 

TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 
THE GIANT SCISSORS 
BIG BROTHER 

Special Holiday Editions 

Each one volume, cloth decorative, small quarto, $1.25 
New plates, handsomely illustrated with eight full-page 
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IN THE DESERT OF WAITING: The Legend 

of Camelback Mountain. 

THE THREE WEAVERS: A Fairy Tale for 
Fathers and Mothers as Well as for Their 
Daughters. 

KEEPING TRYST 

THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING HEART 
THE RESCUE OF PRINCESS WINSOME: 

A Fairy Play for Old and Young. 

THE JESTER’S SWORD 


Each one volume, tall 16mo, cloth decorative . $0.50 

Paper boards .35 


There has been a constant demand for publication in 
separate form of these six stories which were originally 
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JOEL: A BOY OF GALILEE: By Annie Fellows 
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A story of the time of Christ, which is one of the author’s 
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4—2 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE LITTLE COLONEL GOOD TIMES BOOK 

Uniform in size with the Little Colonel Series . $1.50 

Bound in white kid (morocco) and gold . 3.00 

Cover design and decorations by Peter Verberg. 
Published in response to many inquiries from readers 
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a “ Good Times Book ” such as Betty kept. 

THE LITTLE COLONEL DOLL BOOK 

Large quarto, boards $1.50 

A series of “ Little Colonel ” dolls. There are many of 
them and each has several changes of costume, so that 
the happy group can be appropriately clad for the re- 
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ASA HOLMES; Or, At the Cross-Roads. By 
Annie Fellows Johnston. 

With a frontispiece by Ernest Fosbery. 

Large 16mo, cloth, gilt top $1.00 

“ 1 Asa Holmes; or, At the Cross-Roads 1 is the most 
delightful, most sympathetic and wholesome book that 
has been published in a long while.” — Boston Times. 

TRAVELERS FIVE: ALONG LIFE’S HIGH- 
WAY. By Annie Fellows Johnston. 

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piece by E. H. Garrett. 

Cloth decorative $1.25 

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THE RIVAL CAMPERS; Or, The Adventures 
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A Sequel to “ A Texas Blue Bonnet.” By Caroline 
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FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES 

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Each, large 12 mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS 

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FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS 

In this book Mr. Johnston gives interesting sketches of 
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In this volume Mr. Johnston tells interesting stories 
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FAMOUS SCOUTS 

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BORN TO THE BLUE. By Florence Kimball 

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IN WEST POINT GRAY 

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THE SANDMAN: MORE FARM STORIES 

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Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 
Mr. Hopkins’s first essay at bedtime stories met with 
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and out-of-doors, is portrayed in his inimitable manner. 

THE SANDMAN: HIS SHIP STORIES 

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Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 
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THE SANDMAN: HIS SEA STORIES 

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The Further Adventures of the Doctor’s Little 
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One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . $1.50 

In the new book, the author tells how Nancy becomes 
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happiness around her. 

NANCY, THE DOCTOR'S LITTLE PART- 
NER 

By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . .$1.50 

In Nancy Porter, Miss Taggart has created one of the 
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new story she is the same bright and cheerful little maid. 

NANCY PORTER'S OPPORTUNITY 

By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . . $1.50 

Already as the “ doctor’s partner ” Nancy Porter has 
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ALMA AT HADLEY HALL 

By Louise Breitenbach. 

One vol., 12mo, illustrated $1.50 

“ This delightful tale of boarding-school life is one that 
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— Portland Press. 

A — 8 





























































